


Appreciated, At Last

by kathblack



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Draco is also a dumbass, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Healing, Hermione is a dumbass, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-War, but they are teenagers so it's ok, in fact they're all dumbasses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-03-09 03:02:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 29,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18908197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathblack/pseuds/kathblack
Summary: Hermione uses studying as therapy, ineffectually. An unexpected person is there to push her out of her comfort zone, ironically causing her to find someone who appreciates her for exactly who she is and where she will always be safe from unnecessary judgement.





	1. Romance?

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so I've only recently picked up this fic. I haven't written on it in like 3-4 years, and me and my writing style have changed a lot since then. I'm not bothered to go back over the old chapters to fix them, but I have continued it and there's a solid chunk of it to post. I'll try to space out updates so I can catch up with it more and write more of it. I guess what I'm saying is bear with past me?

She couldn’t believe she was feeling this way. About Draco Malfoy of all people! What had gotten into her? She was usually so logical. 

But what was he doing being so nice to her lately? Clearly he wanted something from her. Probably her notes from Transfiguration the other day when she’d noticed he’d been absent. Wait, why had she noticed that? She normally paid no mind to the ferret, as Ron called him. It was a fairly apt nickname, but slightly immature and cruel. She tried to avoid using it, except in her own mind. 

Just yesterday he’d asked her if she was deaf beneath that “beautiful raven’s nest of hair.” She’d thought she’d been imagining it at first. Then she’d blushed and ducked her head to hide behind her hair. But had it really been a compliment or just a slip of the tongue? Maybe even an insult in disguise to get her to let down her guard so he could hurt her even more. 

Stop! She would not contemplate these silly things any longer! She had homework to do. 

***

Hermione sighed to herself as she sat in her favourite chair in the library. She hated to admit it, but she was lonely. She wished she had someone that would study with her. But Ron and Harry just weren’t interested. 

In fact, if they were here, they’d probably ruin her concentration. Which was generally the reason she escaped to the library anyway, so why was she feeling this way all of a sudden? 

Someone cleared their throat behind her. She ignored the noise, desperately re-reading the same sentence that she’d read three times already in a futile attempt to regain her concentration. It just wasn’t working and she sighed again, this time with frustration, pushing her hair back from her forehead with unnecessary force. 

“Keep it down over there Granger, some of us are trying to study you know!” came a familiarly frustrating voice. 

“Malfoy. Why am I surprised?” she retorted, not looking up from the pile of papers before her. 

“Don’t know Granger. Why are you?” he asked insolently. 

She shook her head to herself, deciding to take the moral high ground and not answer back, no matter how tempted she was to answer with the perfect one-liner that was trailing its way around in her mind and distracting her even more than her loneliness had just a few moments before. 

She tried yet again to focus on the work before her and found it impossible. All it was doing was giving her a headache. Even humming one of her favourite Muggle songs didn’t help at all, so she gave up with one final dramatic sigh and laid her head on the desk, using her hair as a pillow. It wasn’t very comfortable, it never had been so Lord knew why she still tried it every time she couldn’t be bothered to walk all the way back to her dorm to take a proper nap. 

***

She stretched out the kinks in her neck as she opened her eyes. How long had she been sleeping? 

“One whole hour, Granger,” Malfoy’s voice answered her unspoken question. Was he a mind reader now? 

“I didn’t ask you!” she snapped. 

He looked confused. “Ugh, yeah you did,” he sneered, a frown marring his handsome features. Wait, did she just call him handsome? 

“Oh…” was her oh-so-intelligent response to that. 

She continued stretching for another minute or so, then glanced at the blank sheet of paper before her, resting so innocently on the scratched wood of the desk. Hermione Granger with writer’s block! Who would have thought? A polar bear in a snowstorm had never been one of the issues she’d faced as a student. Normally the words just flowed like water off a cliff and into the ocean, drop after drop of ink onto the page, gradually adding to the multitude of words already in existence. 

Hesitantly, she picked up the quill that lay near her right hand, figuring that writing something down on the page would be better than nothing at all. She crossed her fingers and hoped that once she had something written down the rest would follow, like it always did. 

She dipped her quill in the ink jar and pressed the tip of the quill to the page. After a few seconds she lifted it without having moved it to form anything. Now a small black circle, still damp, marred her otherwise perfect piece of paper. She added a horizontal line to the dot, dragging it about a centimetre from the small round dot. Then she stopped. What was she doing? This was not like her at all! 

She cocked her head to the side, realised her impromptu doodling was looking far too geometric. She added a gentle curve to the flat line, curving downwards in a slightly spiral formation. It was no wonder people did this in class all the time. She’d always sneered at them, but it was really quite fun. 

She chuckled quietly to herself, shocked by this realisation. 

“Could you keep it down over there Granger? Otherwise I’ll come over there and hex you!” Malfoy exclaimed, throwing his quill down as he got to his feet. 

He stomped toward her and she tried not to let her fear show. She hated to admit it, but she was slightly scared of him and what he might do to her if she had truly angered him enough. But her pride stopped her from apologising. In fact, it kept her as silent as a mouse as she tried to hide her shaking from him. Was it just her or was it unusually cold in here? Funny how she’d never noticed that before. 

She looked up and there he was, looming over her. She tried not to notice how good-looking he was from this angle, as she’ d never seen him this close up before. As she looked him right in his grey eyes, she found it impossible to hold back the shivers wracking her body. The room really was getting colder. How late was it now anyway? She for one wouldn’t mind knowing how much sleep she was missing out on in her lovely comfortable bed back in the Gryffindor dorm room. 

“You look exhausted,” Malfoy said softly. “You should go and get some sleep. It’s clear you’re not going to finish whatever you’ve been working on tonight, judging by the way you’ve been doodling more badly than Weasel in Potions when he doesn’t know what to do, which is always. Besides, knowing you, it’s probably not due for another fortnight anyway.” 

She just looked at him. If you’d asked her to describe the expression on her face, even if she’d had a mirror she wouldn’t have known, she was that confused. Why was Malfoy being this nice? And how did he know that she’d decided to start early on the assignment they’d been assigned earlier in the lesson of Transfiguration he’d missed? Was that why she was so befuddled? 

Eventually, when she’d sorted out her thoughts to the furthest extent that they could be at this late hour, she nodded at him. She started to pack up her things, moving like a snail because she was just that tired and her mind seemed to have flown away out of the stained glass windows like that ridiculous golden Snitch-thing that Harry was always chasing after for some reason in his Quidditch matches. 

“Do you want some help?” Hermione jumped at the sound of Malfoy’s voice right behind her, as she’d thought he’d have gone back to his own desk by now. “Gee, you scare easily for a Gryffindor, Granger,” he chuckled softly, and damn her for thinking it was one of the sexiest sounds she’d ever heard in her short life. 

“Umm, no thanks,” she replied absent-mindedly when she realised she hadn’t replied yet, and despite the fact that this was just Malfoy and she didn’t normally care what he thought, considering he was being so nice, she figured the least she could do was be polite in return. 

A pale but muscular arm snaked its way around her, barely brushing over her waist as it passed. It helped her pack up her mess of notes that she’d spread out all over the breadth of the table, making full use of the space hours ago when she’d sat down to do a few hours of study before she went to bed. Gosh, had it really been that long ago when she’d come in here? She hadn’t realised. 

In no time at all, all her things were packed up and in order, and the pale arm belonging to none other than Draco Malfoy withdrew back past her waist, avoiding touching her this time. She turned around to face him, to thank him of course. She wouldn’t have anyone think her rude, not even her arch-enemy! 

Except when she turned around he was right in front of her, closer than she’d expected him to be. She was suddenly more flustered than she should be around him, her eyes fixed on the floor. She was in Gryffindor, what was she doing? Where had her bravery gone?   
So she looked up, briefly made eye contact and quietly thanked him as she did. Then she bent over, grabbed her things from the table and raced past him and out of the library. Who knew she could move that quickly? She certainly didn’t.


	2. MIRACLE...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco realises the extent of his crush on Hermione.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this is short so y'all get two chapters tonight. Hope you enjoy!

Malfoy watched Hermione run from the room, debating whether to follow her and offer to escort her to the Gryffindor common rooms or to let her go. He sighed. She’d probably seen more than enough of him today, and the truth was he really needed to catch up on what he’d missed in Transfiguration today. He’d hoped that Granger could help him, but she’d seemed to be having as much trouble as he was, and all her constant sighing wasn’t helping his concentration any. 

He turned and headed back to his own desk, spread with sheets the way Hermione’s had been before he’d helped her pack up. He smiled to himself when he remembered the feeling of snaking his arm around her waist without her protesting in the slightest. It had been a miracle, since he was pretty sure she considered him to be her arch-enemy just because Potter didn’t like him, and he’d called her Mudblood a few times. Though, he admitted now that that had been pretty low of him, but he was only a little kid wanting some approval from his absent father, and at least he was trying to make up for it now. 

He had a feeling though, that she suspected him of ulterior motives already, and she was right to be wary, she just had his reasoning twisted.   
He wanted her. Plain and simple. And all his Slytherin buddies just didn’t cut it any longer. He needed someone who challenged his mind. Like Hermione. Of course, it helped that over the last summer she’d become quite the stunner. In fact, she was probably so dense that she hadn’t even realised the stares she was getting from practically every unattached male in the entire school, and some of the attached ones too. It wasn’t his fault that infidelity still existed. You could blame that entirely on his father. 

Before he knew it his desk was clear, his mind, however, was not. Perhaps it never would be. What a dull life that would be. 

The only noise as he walked through the deserted corridors of the Hogwarts castle quite late at night was his own footsteps, and the constant grinding of his own thoughts. He couldn’t help but remember the sight of Hermione bent over her desk, using her hair as a pillow as she slept, having given up on the Transfiguration assignment she’d clearly decided to get a head-start on. And before that, as she’d hummed quietly to herself. He hadn’t recognised the tune but that meant nothing, as it was probably a Muggle tune, considering her background. 

He wasn’t so immature that he’d hold that against her anymore. He accepted that she was an amazing person all on her own, and that Muggle things could hold quite a fascination over him if he let them. In fact, he’d been meaning to approach her with an offer she surely couldn’t refuse, knowing how competitive she was. 

He chuckled to himself at that thought. That frustrating woman had no idea how— but never mind that. Just know that he thought she was one of the sexiest creatures on this Earth when she was concentrating fiercely on something. If only she’d focus on him like that… Now that would be something.


	3. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione flirts with Draco some more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I'm sorry I wrote this so long ago I literally don't remember what happens in any more detail, and I refuse to read over it or edit it in any way) Hopefully you enjoy anyway!

Hermione woke with a smile on her face, but it only lasted a second as she instantly wondered why she was smiling. She wasn’t normally a morning person at all, so why was she so happy that she couldn’t get rid of the stupid grin stretching her face? She lay there for a few more moments, enjoying the languorous feeling of peace that the smile was bringing to her. 

Then she swung her legs out of the bed, ready to face the morning and all it might bring her. This included facing the cold winter air, and the issue of getting dressed quickly enough that she didn’t freeze too much. 

Once that ordeal was achieved, she grabbed her books, clutching them protectively to her chest and happily bounced down the steps to the common room below. She knew she was up ridiculously early, even for her, as no one else was down there. She couldn’t even hear the sounds of anyone else being awake at all yet. 

Normally she would just stay in the common room and try to get in some extra studying, but this morning she wanted to get a head start on the day for some reason. Still smiling, damn thing wouldn’t go away! She walked right on out of the common room, ignoring the questions of the fat lady as she passed. It was none of her business where she was going, especially when Hermione didn’t even know herself. 

She found herself heading for the library, even though it wouldn’t be open at this insanely early hour. Don’t ask her to explain herself, she didn’t even know why her feet had taken her in that direction. It couldn’t have anything to do with the way she’d felt when Malfoy had his arm around her waist the night before when he was helping her to pack up her things. But what if it did? What was she going to do about it? She couldn’t just ignore her feelings forever. 

Hah! Just watch her! Another voice said sarcastically in her head. She’d been ignoring her feelings for Ron for years, just watch her do exactly the same thing with Draco. Wait, when had he changed from Malfoy to Draco in her mind? Did this signify something? 

Oh, stop it! She fervently wished she could get her mind to stop overanalysing every little thing, but she couldn’t help herself. It was just part of who she was, and it helped her understand the world around her. 

“Salazar Slytherin, could you think any louder Granger?” came Draco’s voice from right behind her, causing her to spin around like a ballerina, except she didn’t keep her balance. Malfoy reached out to steady her, and she was secretly thankful, though as soon as she was steady on her feet again she pushed away his hand, still refusing to look up from the fascinating floor to meet his eyes. 

“Could you be any more like a Slytherin, sneaking up on people like that?” she retorted, scrunching up her nose in distaste. Why was she bothering to reply at all? What happened to taking the moral high ground? 

Well… maybe it had more to do with the fact that she secretly enjoyed arguing with him. It just wasn’t any fun with anyone else, because they took too long to come up with an adequate comeback. 

“I made plenty of noise, you were just too off with the fairies to notice. If it wasn’t for that crazy hair, I almost would’ve thought you were Loony Lovegood,” he retorted, that horrid but annoyingly sexy smirk on his face. 

“Don’t insult Luna, she’s a lovely person!” She yelled at him, poking her finger into his chest, tempted to hex him until next Thursday. 

“Do you even talk to her, Granger?” Malfoy asked, the frustrating git! Did he not know when to stop? 

She gave up and turned away from him, walking back the way she’d come. She ignored the sound of footsteps behind her, not wanting to talk anymore. Insulting her, well she was fine with that, but insulting someone else who wasn’t there to defend themselves was taking it too far! 

“Granger?” came his irritatingly sexy voice behind her. Disturbingly close. Did he not have any sense of personal space when it came to her? 

“What?” she snapped. She didn’t want to deal with him for a second longer. Dramatic but true. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it,” he seemed hesitant, probably unused to apologising, but sincere. 

She stopped walking and turned to face him. Clearly he hadn’t been expecting that, and very nearly crashed into her, almost knocking her over. 

“Sorry,” he said again, more quietly, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink as he stared at the ground. 

She raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t apologised in a way that would satisfy her ire, by fully owning up to what he’d said that had offended her. She would accept nothing less. But she didn’t expect to get it, because even Ron and Harry often didn’t understand the way her mind worked, how was this arrogant Slytherin supposed to when he hardly knew her? 

“I’m sorry for comparing you to Luna Lovegood,” he spoke softly when he realised what she wanted from him. His eyes were still fixated on the ground, though the pinkness had faded from his cheeks. 

She sighed. She knew he wouldn’t understand. How could he? He’d only just started being sort of nice to her, so why had she expected something from him that she wouldn’t even expect from Harry and Ron? 

She shook her head and turned away again, starting to walk away when she felt a hand pulling her back by her wrist. She almost stumbled, but caught her balance at the last minute. 

She looked up wondering where Malfoy had gotten to, seeing only empty air, yet still feeling his hand around her wrist. Then she looked down at her feet and saw him on his knees before her. 

“Forgive me?” he asked, looking as innocent as she’d never seen him. 

She sighed, not knowing what to say to him. How could she possibly not forgive him when he was going to this extreme for her? But how could she make him understand what had offended her in the first place? 

So she got down on her knees too, still finding she was shorter than him, but they were on more of an equal footing than they were before. The floor was shockingly cold against her poor unsuspecting knees and she hoped that this conversation wouldn’t last long so she could go find somewhere warm and comfortable to catch up on all the work she’d meant to do last night. 

“It wasn’t that you compared me to Luna, it was that you spoke about her in a derogatory way while she wasn’t here to defend herself, and also that I feel that she doesn’t deserve to be treated that way. She really is a lovely person,” Hermione explained, looking Draco directly in the eye as she spoke, hoping that this would help get her point across effectively. 

He nodded, looking ashamed. Then he got to his feet, reaching out a hand to help her to her feet. She refused to take it. She was an independent woman, thank you very much. 

She was about to set off again back to the Gryffindor common room and give up entirely on studying for the morning when she felt a hand grab hers again. Before she could comment or do much of anything at all she was being dragged back toward the library. It took a few seconds for her legs to register the movement and start to catch up with the blond Slytherin that had slowed down just gradually in his breakneck pace to allow her to catch up to him, though he hadn’t let go of her hand. 

“Where are you taking me?” she asked, trying to sound calm but failing. She probably sounded like a screechy banshee. Well, banshees were always screechy, but even more screechy. 

He didn’t answer. She huffed. How rude was he going to be? She almost wished she hadn’t forgiven him if this was how he was going to treat her.   
A few minutes of awkward silence later and they were right back where they started, in front of the library doors. Hermione was confused. Why would Draco want to take her back here? 

He pulled her forward, pushed open the door and scrunching up her nose in her confusion, Hermione followed him inside. It was still dark inside, the library wasn’t supposed to be open this early in the morning. 

“What are we doing here?” she asked, still confused. 

Draco turned to face her. “You still want to study don’t you?” She hated it when he answered her questions with another question. Wait, why was she saying that like it was something that happened all the time when the truth was she hardly ever spoke to him? 

“Well, yeah…” her voice trailed off as she found herself truly speechless, a rare occasion for her. 

“Would you look at that, the Granger herself is speechless for once! Enjoying the experience?” he asked, winking at her. She wasn’t sure how to react to that, so she just stared at him, waiting for her thoughts to order themselves. 

Eventually, she shook her head and walked over to her usual seat, deciding the best way forward was to ignore Malfoy entirely and the confusing way he made her feel. She settled into the chair, spreading her books out in front of her, staring blankly at them. Somehow she knew studying wasn’t going to work, but she didn’t have the heart to leave when Malfoy had just broken them into the library so she could study. She couldn’t just up and leave now, that would be unbearably rude.


	4. Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione gets into a low-key fight with Harry and Ron over breakfast....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...but I can't remember why. Sorry! Hopefully enjoy it anyway :P

Hermione sat down next to Harry and Ron at the Gryffindor table, head stuck in a book. She’d charmed it to look like a textbook, but the truth was it was a trashy romance novel. She was shamefully addicted to the things. They were so terrible, but somehow that added to their appeal. 

“Morning Mione,” Harry and Ron greeted her simultaneously. It was weird how they did that. 

“Morning,” she replied, unable to hold back a yawn. She hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, and while she’d been in the library with Draco this morning, she’d inadvertently fallen asleep again, finding that the usually very uncomfortable chair had an aura of appeal about it. That fact alone proved how little sleep she’d had the night before. 

She dog eared her page, set the book down and pulled some food closer to her. She wasn’t hungry, but she figured she may as well keep up appearances and at the very least pretend to eat. She picked up her toast in one hand and her book in the other, because she really wanted to find out what happened to the main character. Would the hero rescue her from the villain? Why did that feel like a metaphor for her own life? What did she need rescuing from? 

“Mione!?” Harry yelled. 

“What?” she asked distractedly. 

“Did you hear any of that? At all?” Harry asked, looking concerned. 

“Umm, no?” why was she asking? God what was happening to her! 

Harry sighed, “I was asking you what we’ve got today.” 

“Oh,” she replied. 

“Well do you?” Harry continued. 

“Mmhmm,” was her distracted response. Draco had just entered the Great Hall and was now walking over to the Slytherin table. 

“So what do we have today?” Harry tried again. 

“What?” she turned to look at him, confused. What had she missed this time? 

“Mione, are you sure you’re ok?” Harry asked concernedly. 

“Yeah, of course,” couldn’t he just leave her alone? 

She stood to leave, toast and book still in hand, leg half swung over the bench when Ron grabbed her arm. She looked down at him, shocked. He’d never tried to manhandle her before. 

“Mione, he’s only trying to help. Why are you running away from us?” All this he said around a mouthful of toast. She shuddered internally at the sight.  
She shook her head, refusing to answer, and the truth was even if she had wanted to answer, she wouldn’t have known what to say. She wasn’t used to that feeling. She hoped it was only a one-time thing. 

She tore her arm from where Ron still held it between grubby palms, finished swinging her leg over the bench and stormed out of the Great Hall. How dare he man-handle her! 

She was fuming as she stomped out of the Great Hall, just managing to avoid the few stragglers only just arriving even though her head was still buried in her novel. Her eyes scanned the words as they always did, but her mind wasn’t taking in the words. 

She just wanted to find somewhere quiet where she could avoid everyone for a few hours. She no longer had the time turner, so obviously that wasn’t possible. She would have to go to class eventually. Potions first up. Why was that thought making her smile? It wasn’t because they had the class with Slytherin. It couldn’t be. 

If she bumped into Draco again today, she just might be tempted to hex him til next Thursday. She’d had enough of boys and their antics for one day. Heck, for life! 

She found an abandoned corridor, she wasn’t sure whether she’d been here before. Which was a good thing, as it meant that it must be a lesser used corridor, which meant she was less likely to be discovered. There was only one portrait on the wall to her left, an old man with a beard longer than he was, sleeping peacefully. He was snoring softly, the sound echoing around the cold stone walls before fading. It was surprisingly peaceful, unlike Ron’s distasteful snoring that could wake the dead. 

She sat down, back against the wall. She continued to read her book, soon forgetting all her troubles and the soft sound of snoring entirely. The knowledge only returned when she had finished the last page, satisfied with the ending. The hero had gotten down on his knees and begged for forgiveness. The heroine had refused to take him back, saying that he had hurt her too badly but that she still loved him. Now they could both live happily ever after, apart. She just loved happy endings. 

“What are you doing here Hermione?” spoke a voice she hadn’t realised she’d wanted to hear until she heard it. 

“Draco, what are you doing here?” She didn’t take her eyes away from the spot on the wall that they were affixed on. She knew exactly where he was without looking anyway, so it was completely unnecessary. 

There was an awkward pause, knowing him he was probably scratching his head, unsure of what to say. Whatever happened to people saying what was on their minds? Oh, right. She did. Because she got so easily offended. Whoops. 

“Oh just spit it out, Malfoy,” she told him, finally turning to see him leaning against the wall, half in the light and half in the dark. He looked like he’d just stepped out of a Calvin Klein advert. She hoped she wasn’t drooling. 

“What did the Weasel say?” he asked, his eyes turning dark. 

She raised her eyebrows, refusing to continue this silly game of question after question. “What is this, twenty questions?” 

He looked confused. “No, but anyway, I can see that you’re fine. You’ll be late for class though,” with this he pushed himself off the wall and approached her, holding out his hand to her. She was more than a little confused with his sudden change in tactics. 

Was that all this was to him? A game? 

“It never occurred to you that I might not want to go to class, did it?” Damn it, she fell in his trap! Asking questions again. What was wrong with her today? 

Now he was the one who looked confused. And sexy. Whoops, where did that thought come from? 

“The Great Hermione Granger, doesn’t want to go to class?” he sneered, twisting his attractive features into a form she couldn’t appreciate no matter how visually appealing it might be. 

She refused to reply, not even when he slid his toned body down the wall next to her, muttering under his breath about how cold and hard the ground was. Not even when she wanted to laugh softly at him. Especially not when he grumbled at her, asking why the hell she’d come here when she had a perfectly adequate common room to hide in. Then he realised what he said and backtracked faster than you would believe, going on to say that the Gryffindor common room could never compare with the Slytherin common room. 

There were so many things she wanted to say to him in this moment, but they all raced for her mouth at the same time and her mind got confused. She ended up not saying anything at all, and perhaps that was for the best. 

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, neither of them saying anything at all. Silence really was bliss, though she’d never really thought so. She’d never been able to stop from running her mouth when she was nervous, which might help to explain her silence now. She wasn’t nervous, so her mouth stayed closed. 

Which led her to the obvious question, why was she so comfortable around him of all people? He’d been the one to introduce her to the word mudblood in her second year, after all. She hadn’t known what it meant at the time, but diligent research had proven to be more than enough to satisfy her curiosity on the subject. In fact, she wished she’d never heard the word uttered from Malfoy’s decidedly pouty mouth. At least, it was pouty now. Oh, never mind! 

“Stop thinking so much Granger, you’re ruining the silence,” Draco admonished her. She felt foolish, but what else was a girl like her to do in a situation like this? Besides, overthinking things was one of her main personality traits, and she just wouldn’t feel like herself if she stopped doing it! Not to mention she didn’t want to change for anybody, no matter how much they meant to her. She shouldn’t have to. “Besides, you never did tell me why exactly you don’t want to go to class. And you know we have Potions right now. And there was an assignment due, which I’m sure you finished like a month ago!” 

Hermione finally pulled her act together and pressed a hand to his mouth so stop him from babbling. His cheeks coloured slightly, but that quickly faded, so quickly that she wasn’t even sure that she’d seen them colour in the first place.  
“Ssh, you’ll get us caught!” she hissed at him, then turned back to staring at the wall, back to her peaceful daydream, pulling her hand from his mouth slowly, hoping he’d know to keep his mouth shut. Love mightn’t be perfect in the real world, but the realms of her imagination certainly more than made up for Ron’s inadequacy in that department. 

“What did the Weasel say to make you so… different, anyway?” Draco continued as if she hadn’t said anything at all, and despite the lack of animosity to their conversation, Hermione still found herself holding back the urge to hex him. Why were men always so frustrating! They were like dogs with a bone, and once they’d caught sight of that bone, they never let go! Even Harry just now, asking her what they had like she was a walking talking timetable! Sometimes she felt like breaking his glasses on purpose, just so that he couldn’t see what was right in front of him! He was already blind as a bat anyway, he probably wouldn’t even notice! 

“Why does it matter to you anyway, why would you care what Harry and Ron say to me, it certainly wasn’t you that rescued me from a troll in the bathroom after insulting me the way they did,” though that was mostly Harry, rather than Ron, she added mentally, feeling that it would detract from the point that she was making. When had this turned into an argument anyway? Oh, well done Hermione! 

“Why wouldn’t it matter to me? Why else would I be sitting here with you on this bloody cold floor when I could be working hard in Potions, probably bored out of my mind!” he paused for a moment. “In fact, if anything, I owe you for giving me a wonderful excuse to skip that horrid class when I could no longer give two shits about my grades! It’s not like they matter all that much in the long run. Everyone knows it’s not what you know, but who you know, an advantage that you’ll have already, though knowing you, you wouldn’t abuse it the way most people would if they were in your position—“  
Hermione finally cut off Draco’s extended speech with a raised hand. Who knew the sleek Slytherin had that many words in him to speak in the first place? She certainly hadn’t. She’d thought he’d be more the strong and silent type when she’d bothered lifting her head from her studies to think about him at all. 

Now, however, she found that her thoughts trailed in his direction more and more often. She’d almost gone so far as to have arguments with herself about the whole thing! One part of her felt that her heart was betraying her head, and that was enough to make her panic normally, but the fact that it was Malfoy meant that she also felt that she was betraying the trust of Harry and Ron, even though the rational side of her knew that it was none of their business what went on in her heart and head provided that she was still capable of being the “brains of the Golden Trio” as everyone seemed to call her these days. She’d even begun to resent that title and all it meant for her: being treated like a glorified nerd that was expected to know everything when that information as needed, but to be ignored the rest of the time. Well, she was sick of it! 

So if it meant that she was sitting stewing with Malfoy, skipping her favourite class and probably getting a zero for the assignment that was due, for failing to hand it in on time, then it wasn’t because she didn’t have a perfectly adequate reason to do so! She was seething mad, and it showed in her increased breathing. She was fairly sure Draco had noticed, but if so, he hadn’t said anything, for which she was immensely grateful. 

“Are you ok?” he finally asked, though Hermione wasn’t quite sure why she expected him to, or why leaning her head against his shoulder seemed like a good idea. She found it strangely comfortable in a stiff way, but she could feel the strength in the muscles beneath his skin, something she found endeared him to her in way that Ron could only hope to do in his wildest dreams after he stopped fooling around with Lavender, that is. 

She sighed, settling more comfortably on Malfoy’s shoulder, half expecting him to exclaim something about her being beneath his lofty standards, leaping to his feet and running away from her like a bat out of hell. But instead his arm came around her, his lips dangerously close to her ear. 

“Don’t tell anyone about this, Granger,” he whispered in her ear, then pulled away from her. His arm stayed, however, and despite the warmth that radiated from his body, Hermione wasn’t sure how she felt about it. Did this mean she was obligated to him at some future date? Maybe she was just overthinking things again, but in her experience caution was generally wise, despite the fact that she was a Gryffindor, and proud of it too. “You’re still thinking too much,” he continued, leaning back toward her ear for the few moments it took to utter the few syllables that had escaped his lips. 

“What should I be thinking about then?” she retorted, wondering if he’d have a cheeky response for that. 

“You shouldn’t be thinking about anything,” of course, she should have known that the Draco Malfoy always had a cheeky response for everything. Must be a Slytherin thing. 

“I’ll try,” she managed to choke out. 

Her breathing was starting to slow, along with her heartbeats as she employed some Muggle breathing techniques to calm herself down that she’d read about over the summer break. How had she known that she’d need them at all? Probably thought she’d need them for the upcoming exams or something, or maybe she was just really, really bored. Who knew with her, she didn’t even remember, so nobody else had any hope whatsoever of deciphering it. 

“You know you don’t have to be friends with those dimwits, don’t you?” Draco asked into the burgeoning silence. “Just because they’re in your house and happened to save you from a troll in your first year doesn’t mean that they’re any good for you and your sanity now.” 

“I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, why on Earth do you care?” Hermione replied, her voice soft, yet still echoing off the stone walls, that one lone snoring portrait still snoozing on, completely unaware of the monumental conversation taking place on the corridor floor. 

Draco shrugged. Hermione didn’t blame him for not knowing his own mind, as she was often hard-pressed to explain to others why she did the things she did, such as reading all the time. It was an escape from the real world, sure, but to her, it was more than that, and she found herself incapable of finding the words to articulate that to other people. 

“Maybe because I see the way they ignore you and the look on your face when they aren’t looking. Maybe I’m not supposed to notice, being who I am, but I can understand the thoughts I see so plainly written all over your face, because I often feel the same way,” and he went and surpassed her expectations of him yet again. Could he really be so different than the boy who had called her a filthy little mudblood, the boy that Harry and Ron detested so much? Had she really underestimated him all this time, or had he changed? And if so, what had caused him to change so drastically? 

“How is that?” she asked softly, trying not to let the confusion noticeable in her voice, but accepting that she was probably failing miserably. 

“I’ve never really felt that I have any close friends in Slytherin, and other than that house I know nobody from any other house would want anything to do with me, so I know what it’s like to feel alone, and I see you looking like that almost all the time these days and I wonder why I can’t seem to work up the bravery to walk up and try to get you to see me another way,” he paused. “Bloody hell, I’m turning into a Gryffindor! No, a Hufflepuff!” 

Hermione chuckled. “There’s nothing wrong with being a Hufflepuff, or a Gryffindor. Or a Slytherin, for that matter. In fact, if you showed the people in other houses the person you’re showing me right now I’m sure they wouldn’t mind getting to know you at all. Though I’ve often wondered why Dumbledore keeps the house system in place. It doesn’t really make any sense when it’s so obvious that a system like this creates divides between us, leading to people like Voldemort getting loose in the magical world with very little measures in place to control his actions. None, really, when you think about it.” She finally finished her rambling, blushing just slightly. 

“Damn girl, I can see why they say you’re the brains of the Golden Trio!” Draco exclaimed. 

“I really hate that name,” Hermione mused aloud. 

“Why, if you don’t mind me asking?” Draco turned toward her, dislodging her comfortable position on his shoulder a little, though his arm that was curled around her quickly worked to resettle her so that he could see her face and so that she was still comfortable. 

“I hate being ‘golden’ like it means I have to be good all the time! What if I want to be a little bit sneaky and manipulative like Dumbledore, but I can’t because I’m the goody two shoes Hermione Granger who hates breaking the rules and nobody will ever see me in a different way. I’ll always be the dowdy one, the one that doesn’t want to socialise beyond the pages of a book, doesn’t want to get dressed up all sexy for her boyfriend who doesn’t exist anyway. If I did any of those things people would accuse me of being Slytherin, or of making up my boyfriend, like Ron did in fourth year for the Yule Ball!” she finally finished her little tirade, idly wondering why she felt so comfortable telling all of this to Malfoy of all people. 

“Why do you care what people think of you?” Draco looked slightly confused as he gazed straight into her eyes with his grey eyes. “I thought Gryffindor’s were brave enough not to care what other people thought of them. Brave enough to leave the gossips to themselves—“ 

“Stop!” Hermione cut him off. She didn’t need to hear all that. It was the diatribe she had with herself every night with multiple voices in her head when she was trying to get to sleep every night. “I ought to do all of those things, but the only reason the Sorting Hat placed me in Gryffindor was because I asked it to. Otherwise it would’ve sorted me in Ravenclaw. I’m wondering now whether I made the right choice, whether it would have been better to be sorted into Ravenclaw and avoid all this drama between our two houses, and the manipulation of Dumbledore that’s just barely concealed.” 

“So that’s why you’re skipping class?” Draco didn’t seem to be asking, despite the fact that his voice definitely rose in pitch at the end of his sentence. Now she saw why he was always just below her in the rankings in the classes they shared. He was actually smart after all, that it wasn’t all just the influence of his father. She didn’t speak any of her thoughts, however, knowing that if she did, that would be the end of the truce they seemed to have right now. 

“Yeah,” she replied non-committedly, settling herself more comfortably on his shoulder, closing her eyes for a second. The blackness and the accompanying silence suited the atmosphere and the mood perfectly, and soon she found herself drifting off to sleep.


	5. WHIPPED

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco is surprisingly nice to Hermione.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty short, so you get two chapters today!

Draco was amazed at himself that he was allowing this to happen. He was a prefect, he was not supposed to be skipping classes with Hermione Granger of all people! 

He’d only intended to pick her up, maybe make her feel a little bit better then send her off to class, following behind her so he could keep an eye on her… and her assets. Now he was sitting beside her, allowing her to snuggle into him, fast asleep as she was. He was even holding her closer, as if his arm had forgotten who she was and what that meant to him, and more importantly, his father. Yet that wasn’t enough to make him move, make him leave and go to Potions where he would no doubt be abused by Professor Snape for not having completed that stupid assignment that he was sure Hermione had already finished months ago. 

He no longer really cared about his grades, not even in his favourite subject, which was Potions. He just couldn’t find the energy to care. It all seemed so pointless now the Malfoy name had come to mean that he was little better than a criminal, especially with Harry Potter and his goody two shoe friends around, always accusing him of trying to kill Dumbledore. Well, he knew now that Hermione was beginning to chafe at the bit with the goody two shoe act, but Potter and Weaselbee would be doing no such thing any time soon, and he knew this fact all too well. 

If only his father hadn’t raised him to be such a proud prat, maybe he’d have a few actual friends at his age, like that Potter kid did. All too well did he remember the events following that first train ride to Hogwarts when he’d only been eleven. He regretted his words that night now that he could look back on them with the benefit that only hindsight could provide. He often wished that he could go back and change them, knowing that his life would be ten times easier if he’d been genuine in his emotions when he’d held out his hand for Potter to shake. 

Potter always seemed to pick up the underdogs like it was easy. If he’d been less mature when he’d reached that realisation, he would have wondered if he wasn’t friends with Potter because he was better than him, being Pureblood rather than a Half-blood, but now he knew that there really was no difference, that no matter what he did Hermione Granger would always beat him in every single class he shared with her. This had finally led to the moment when he had snapped, screaming that he couldn’t take it anymore! After that, he had ceased to care in the slightest about his grades, or about what other people thought of him, including his father, though changing that about himself had remarkably difficult to do, and even now he struggled with it. 

If that meant being completely open with his emotions and acting less and less like the Slytherin that he’d always been, then he didn’t give a damn. If it meant skipping class with Granger and allowing her to catch up on sleep on his shoulder then he didn’t mind that either. If it meant being nice to Potter and the Weasleys then he didn’t mind that either. He just didn’t want to be manipulated any longer. He’d had just about enough of it, and even now he knew that his childish rebellion would not go unnoticed, and would likely result in some sort of scheme to pull him back into line. 

If he could just get even one member of the ‘Golden Trio’ to feel bad for him then just might be in luck. He’d have to be an idiot not to know how kind the Weasleys, particularly Mrs. Weasley, were to those that they were close to. He saw the kindness of Hermione’s actions toward those she cared about and knew that she was probably his wisest choice for his own little manipulative scheme to get into the ‘right’ crowd. 

He knew it was wrong to manipulate her like that, but it kept him sane to know that he really did care about her and her friends. He’d just been born into the wrong family, and he knew that the way they were going now they couldn’t possibly survive this war with the Malfoy name intact. All he was doing was trying to change that the only way he knew how, sneaky as it was. To a Slytherin, little else would even be a viable choice.


	6. Bullies, Transfiguration, and Ronald Weasley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco flirt with each other, go to class, and Ronald has a go at her for hanging out with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, the second chapter of the day! Hope you enjoy (again, I still don't really know what happens in this chapter because I refuse to re-read it)

Hermione woke to a light tap on her shoulder. She shook her head a few times to clear it of the fuzzy thoughts currently residing there as remnants from her strange dreams. Well, strange for her at least. 

Where was she again? Wasn’t she supposed to be in her soft and comfortable bed in the Gryffindor dormitory? Why was her bottom numb from the cold? Had she fallen asleep in the library again? That seemed to be happening more and more frequently these days. 

Blinking furiously to clear her blurry eyes, she glanced around her and realised she was in an abandoned corridor of the Hogwarts castle that featured a portrait of an old man with a ridiculously long beard snoring his head off and generally disturbing the peace of the otherwise empty corridor.  


Well, empty except for the pale-haired, Pureblood elitist standing over her offering her his hand as she slowly rose to her feet, refusing the help he so arrogantly offered as he looked down his nose at her. 

“Draco Malfoy. What a wonderful surprise,” she sighed, running a hand through her unruly hair. What must he think of her, having such a conversation and then falling asleep on his shoulder like they were intimate or something! In fact, she was amazed that he hadn’t run away as soon as she was out. The fact that he had stayed spoke to her on some unfathomable level, though she couldn’t determine what. 

Ignoring her somewhat rude comment on his presence, he simply stated: “We have Arithmancy now. I assume you don’t want to miss that as well as Potions. I may not care about my grades, but I know you do.” 

And there he went again, seemingly caring about her. What the hell was going on? Or maybe he really was just using her and manipulating her for some purpose that she failed to understand at this point in time, but would come to at some further date in the future. What did it bother her when she was getting someone out of it who looked at her and saw someone worthwhile, someone that she really was, rather than projecting their expectations of her onto her and practically forcing her to become that vision. She was Hermione Granger, and that was how it would stay. 

“I’d like that very much,” she told him, walking past him slowly as her stiff legs gradually adjusted to the movement. She rubbed at her bottom in a futile attempt to rid it of the numbness that had set in while she’d been sleeping on Malfoy’s shoulder, hoping that as she did so he wasn’t watching.  
Then she purposefully moved her thoughts to all things other than Malfoy eyeing her ass from behind as she walked away from her slightly clandestine meeting with him in an abandoned corridor, the duration of which they had spent talking as if they were best mates, where she had then proceeded to fall asleep on his shoulder. What a strange day. She sure hoped it didn’t get any stranger. 

But that was not to be, as Draco’s friend Blaise Zabini lay in wait for her at the door of their Advanced Arithmancy classroom. 

“Granger! Where were you? Pothead and Weasel missed you in Potions! Too busy crying in the library because there’s not enough time to study, huh?” he yelled out loud enough that everyone in the corridor turned to look at her. 

Refusing to give in to the stares and the whispers as the gossipmongers started up for the day, she kept her head up and breezed up to Blaise. 

“I do not cry over silly things such as homework, studying is not all there is to life, and the ‘Pothead’ and ‘Weasel’ are not my only friends. Good day, Zabini,” she breezed on past him, head still high, wishing she had the bravery to turn around and see the expression on his face, but knowing that it would ruin her act of indifference. 

Inside the classroom the few in attendance turned to look at her, but she simply stared them down, pulled out her things and pulled out her seat, waiting for the lesson to begin. She was so far into her act that she hardly noticed and almost wasn’t surprised at all when Draco sat down beside her as if he did that every lesson. 

“Did you see his face?” he hissed, grinning conspiratorially at her. This was an entirely new experience for her, and she wasn’t sure what to think of it, and how it measured up against her usual values. She only knew that she was enjoying this morning far more than she should. Maybe she should get in arguments with Ron more often if it led to results like these! 

“I did not,” she replied primly, winking at him. She hoped her face didn’t contort too strangely as she attempted the new face. She’d always thought it was an immature thing to do, but it proved worth the risk when Draco grinned even wider, turning to the front of the room where Hermione was surprised to see that the teacher had already entered the room. 

Pushing all thoughts of that morning’s events from her mind, she concentrated fully on the work assigned during the lesson, only returning from her scholarly stupor when Draco tapped her again lightly on the shoulder at the end of the lesson in bid for her attention. 

“Helena Ravenclaw, you really do go into a different world when there’s work to be done don’t you?” Draco calmly asked his rhetorical question, the expression on his face one of wonder. It wasn’t what she’d been expecting from the Slytherin, but it just showed how little they knew each other. 

“Anyway, what did you mean you have friends other than Harry and Ron?” 

She smiled. He’d fallen right into her trap, even referring to them by their given names. If this is what happens when you play Slytherins’ at their own game, then Hermione was dying to find out what the next step was! Would he start acting like a Gryffindor, simply because he was too used to playing opposites with her, Harry and Ron? 

“Did you just call them ‘Harry’ and ‘Ron’?” she asked, grinning at him as she packed away her things, stepping outside of the classroom with him at her side when she was done. 

“Yes, but—Bloody hell woman! Will you just answer my question instead of asking me another question! It’s really getting up my nose!” he yelled, placing an arm around her waist, winking subtly as he did so. She smiled to herself. He was just playing up the drama for the crowd, and she was loath to admit that she was loving playing along with him. 

Leaning into him, she looked up at him flirtatiously: “You know you love it,” she teased, watching as his cheeks pinkened with the comment. As they say, many a true word is spoken in jest. 

Then, she frowned in an exaggerated manner. “What was your question anyway?” 

He growled under his breath, but in a way that allowed everyone walking by to hear the exaggerated noise. “Do. You. Have. Friends. Other. Than. Harry. And. Ron?” He spat out, his eyes flashing ice cold for a moment. She was almost scared, when she remembered that this was merely a charade that would end the moment they exited the public eye. So why was she enjoying it so much. 

She giggled to enhance the whole performance as it played out, placing hand on Malfoy’s chest as she did so. “Well, why didn’t you say so?”  
Draco rolled his eyes and Hermione found herself hard pressed not to crack up laughing at the absurdity of the whole scenario, but told herself that it would be over soon, and so, so, worth it when Ron and Harry heard all about it, exaggerated beyond belief no doubt. By Godric that was going to be a fun argument! 

“I mean, there’s Luna, and Ginny, and Neville—“ she continued to explain until Draco cut her off with a hand over her mouth. She pondered biting it, just for the heck of it, but he hadn’t done it earlier when she’d placed her hand over his mouth, so she supposed she ought to return the favour, so to speak. It would’ve been fun to hear him squeak in pain though. Maybe she’d do it to Ron instead. Then it’d be twice as entertaining. 

"Ok, ok, no need to list everybody in the school!” to her surprise, she and Draco had reached their next class, Transfiguration. She turned to him, surprised. 

They both shared this class with Harry and Ron, would they really just waltz right on in and continue their little performance? Or would they part ways before they entered and allow the gossip network to do their work for them? 

Draco winked yet again, tightening his hold on her waist as they walked through the double doors and into McGonagall’s classroom like it was completely normal for them to do such a thing, that they did this every day. That was a complete lie, and everyone knew it, the silence ensuing in the classroom as they passed those students already seated conveyed that beyond any reasonable doubt. 

Hermione glanced over at Harry and Ron, pleased to see their mouths gaping wide open in shock horror at the sight of her walking in draped over Draco Malfoy’s arm like she belonged there. That would teach them not to treat her like she wasn’t there unless there was some mystery that only she was intelligent enough to solve for them. That would teach Ron to man handle her. He may be from a world that treated women like they were in the medieval era of Muggle history, but she wasn’t, and she would not put up with it. 

If seeing her being treated the way she would like to be treated by a Slytherin, Draco Malfoy at that, then she didn’t know what would. She didn’t even think she could still be friends with them if they were going to continue treating her that way. She’d had enough, she wanted more and if she didn’t get it then they could say goodbye to their perfect, goody two shoes little bookworm. She was more than that, and the only person who seemed to realise that was the boy whose arm was currently draped around her shoulders. 

She stopped at the desk she normally sat at, not sure how far she and Draco were going to take this charade, now that they’d achieved their goal. She went to sit down but before she could Draco had dragged her toward the front of the classroom where he normally sat with his Slytherin pal, one that she’d never been bothered to learn the name of. He wasn’t there now, though. 

Hermione looked on calmly, not letting on her inner turmoil as Draco pulled out the chair for her, waiting until she had seated herself before pulling out a chair for himself. She refused to look at him as she prepared herself for another intriguing lesson of Transfiguration. She would need all her focus to avoid the feeling of Ron’s death stares digging into her back, and Harry’s confused glares. 

A moment later and Draco’s arm was curled around the back of her chair, his fingers playing lightly with a few strands of her bushy hair, occasionally brushing up against the sensitive skin of her neck, causing her to shiver. She couldn’t pretend that she didn’t like it, but she did find it slightly creepy. And presumptuous. But if it got her what she wanted, then who was she to complain? 

Thankfully she was saved from worrying even more about it when McGonagall walked into the room, one raised eyebrow enough to convey her feelings about the new arrangement of the students in her class. Hermione did as she usually did in class, attempting desperately to ignore the feelings that that one blasted hand trailing on her neck were causing to run rampant within her. 

Eventually, however, the joy of learning took over and she ceased to care, or even notice what Malfoy did as she listened intently to McGonagall. As far as she was concerned he wasn’t even there, had never even existed, such was her focus on all things Transfiguration, and not Draco Malfoy. 

Once the class was over, Hermione quickly packed up her things and attempted to escape before Malfoy could notice her absence, but she wasn’t quick enough for the quick-thinking Slytherin. Before she could get anywhere, he’d idly reached out a hand, grasping it lightly around her wrist. There wasn’t enough force behind the action to actually stop her, but it brought to a halt because she didn’t want to hurt him by moving away, whether physically or psychologically. 

“Hermione!” Ron yelled out from near the door. Apparently he’d gotten it into his head that she needed saving from the boy he called the ‘ferret’. 

“And here he comes, the freckled saviour.” She intoned sarcastically, smirking when Draco chuckled along with her. Bloody hell, she really was turning into a Slytherin! “You’re a bad influence on me, Draco Malfoy!” she laughed aloud then, throwing back her head with abandon, never having felt so free before in her short life. Being the bookworm doesn’t really lead to much laughter, except when it’s directed at you by bullies like Ronald Weasley. Why had she never realised that before? 

A moment passed, and then Draco joined in on her raucous laughter. “Just doing my job, sweetheart!” he joked along with her, pulling her into his side as he had before. If only Blaise Zabini could see them now, she’d love to see the expression on his face. 

“What are you doing?” Ron looked confused now that he stood before them. The expression on his face was just as priceless as Zabini’s would have been if he were there, and Hermione could only just barely hold back the giggles that were threatening to erupt from her throat long enough to reply. 

“Honestly, Ronald, what does it look I’m doing? I’m having fun with someone who actually cares about what I say when I open my mouth!” then she let the giggles take her over, watching as Ron’s whole face went bright red, almost as red as his hair, and this was only because of the freckles smattered all over his round face. 

She and Draco swept out of the room, leaving the shell-shocked Ron behind them, both still laughing uncontrollably. Hermione had never had so much fun in her life


	7. CRUSH

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More flirting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to post yesterday!! So you get two chapters today (also because this one is quite short).

Draco was amazed at this new Hermione. Her sleep on his shoulder seemed to have changed her into some entirely different person! Either that or she was high on some unknown substance… But he doubted that, considering the nature of their conversation earlier. Not to mention that she wasn’t stupid! People died from taking those things! 

Zabini’s and now Ron’s faces had been hilarious when she’d sassed them with her sharp tongue, and he couldn’t wait to see what would happen next as they walked out of McGonagall’s classroom, Hermione safely tucked away under his arm where nobody could get at her and it seemed like the world was hers to conquer. He just hoped that he was safe from this conquering that she seemed to be embarking upon in a quest to rule the castle. The whole of Scotland would probably be hers by the end of the day if she kept going this way. 

Somebody would have to stay with her, of course. That would be him. He’d be her saviour, keeping her safe while she conquered, though she didn’t seem to need much help in that department. It was more likely that he’d be her support network, the one that stood at her side while she untangled her life so that it made sense again. Maybe while she was at it, his life would begin to make sense as well. 

He didn’t know where he was steering them, but it was somewhere away from prying eyes, Ron, gossips, and very probably in entirely the wrong direction to the Gryffindor common room. He didn’t know where it was, so he couldn’t very well go and take Hermione there, now could he? 

“Where are we going?” Hermione asked him, stopping laughing for a second to choke out the words. Her head was leaned on his shoulder again, and he felt a warm smile lift his features as he looked down at her. 

“I have no idea!” and they both laughed at the craziness of the idea. 

A few minutes passed where they didn’t go anywhere, standing still in an empty corridor laughing until their sides hurt. Draco was trying his hardest to think of a time in his life when he’d felt happier than he was right now, but found that he was hard-pressed to do so. This was the happiest he’d ever been, though he’d never tell Hermione that. He didn’t want her pity. 

“What do we even have now?’ Hermione asked him once her laughter had subsided. 

“I have no idea!” Draco replied, and that was the honest truth. He only ever bothered going to his morning classes and the afternoon ones, the ones in the middle could just go to hell. The long and short of it was that he just didn’t care, so he only looked at the top and bottom of his timetable each day, so he really did have no idea what they had right now, and apparently, Hermione didn’t either, which he was fairly sure was a rarity for her. 

Hermione chuckled. “Cheeky, aren’t you? Well, maybe we should go somewhere where we won’t be caught skipping class again.” 

Draco frowned. How was she so open to that idea, suggesting it even? 

“Are you sure you’re not high?” he asked, tilting her face toward his so he could look deeper into her eyes. Surely she wasn’t? That was a completely non-Hermione thing to do, and he was fairly sure that no one changed that rapidly unless they were helped along by some substance or other. 

“What! Are you kidding? Am I not allowed to be rebellious sometimes?” she pouted up at him, and he wondered if she knew how adorable that face made her look, what with all that bushy hair, that he knew now was incredibly soft. While fiddling with the back of her neck in Transfiguration in an attempt to distract her the way she was distracting him just with her presence, though it hadn’t seemed to work, he’d accidentally fingered a few strands of her hair and discovered how soft they were, despite the prickly appearance of it. 

“Such a Gryffindor,” and he tutted at her, then winked. Pulling at her from where his hand was still rested on her waist, he dragged her off where they’d come from. “Where was that corridor with the bearded man anyway?”


	8. The Inquisition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Ron interrogate Hermione.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's also short, whoops! Hope you enjoy it anyway.

Hermione smiled to herself as she walked past the portrait of the Fat Lady and into the Gryffindor common rooms. She felt on top of the world, and very little could bring her down from her wonderful mood. 

Except, of course, Ron and Harry waiting to ambush her at the bottom of the steps to the girls’ dormitory. Today was just not her day. Couldn’t they just give her a break? If they were really her friends, they’d just accept that she was happy and leave her choices alone. But that was clearly not to be, though judging by the expression on Harry’s face, he’d been dragged into this by Ron. He looked apprehensive, he probably wasn’t happy with her choice of companion for the day, but she knew he’d be willing to accept it once she explained her reasoning. Ron, however, was a completely different story. He was a Weasley, and Weasleys just didn’t get on with Malfoys. That was a universal truth if ever she heard one, take that Jane Austen! 

She loved Jane Austen, what was she saying? What had gotten into her today, first falling asleep on Malfoy’s shoulder, sitting with him in all the classes they shared, and now insulting Jane Austen. Wow, she really was changing. She didn’t know if it was for the better, though, but time would tell.  


All she knew was that this had been the happiest day of her life, and if that was the case, then why was she worrying at all? Happiness was very important to her. 

“What were you doing with Malfoy today?” Harry asked her calmly, and Hermione had to commend him for that, despite how annoyed she was that this was no doubt going to end in a screaming match between her and Ron. 

“Having fun. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have homework to complete. Perhaps you should be doing the same?” she breezed on past, refusing to play their game this time. She wasn’t a doormat, she was a Gryffindor, and she was damn well going to act like one! 

Ron stepped in front of her before she could get more than a few steps up the stairs. He held out an arm, frustratingly long enough to reach the whole way across the staircase so that there was no way she could possibly get past him without breaking his arm. Not that she’d be strong enough to be capable of that anyway, but it was a nice thought. She’d often thought of all the violent things she could do to him when she was mad at him for something or other. And no, none of them involved a bed, in case you were wondering. 

“Get out of my way Ronald!” she yelled at him, unsurprised when everyone in the room turned to look at the altercation taking place in their very own common room. Half the people here participated very actively in the gossip network, and she knew that by tomorrow morning everyone in the castle would know that the Hermione Granger had had another fight with her ‘boyfriend’ Ronald Weasley. She honestly didn’t care. All that she wanted to do right now was get her things and go study in the library, even if Malfoy was there distracting her again, it would still be better than staying here and facing the inquisition about him from the people that were supposedly her best friends. 

“No, Hermione. Not until you explain to us this nonsense going on between you and Malfoy!” his face was going as red as his hair again. Apparently, he was getting angry now. Gee, she was so scared. 

“There is nothing going on between us that you need to know about, so now would you please get out of my way?” She felt her own temperature rise as her temper rose to the occasion. Why did her personal business always end up the personal business of everyone in the castle because Ron couldn’t keep his nose out of other people’s business, namely hers, and that everyone else in Gryffindor was a massive gossip! She was really starting to get sick of it! If it happened even one more time, then she’d consider going to Dumbledore and requesting to change houses! If she ended up in Slytherin, then so be it. At least she’d be able to see Draco more easily. 

“Hermione, please,” he pleaded with her. “You know we only want the best for you, and we don’t think that Malfoy is—“ at this Hermione cut him off.  


“Don’t even bother finishing that sentence, Ronald Weasley! When you have the right to dictate who I talk to, then I’ll let you know, but for now, the answer is no, so will you please leave me the hell alone! I have studying to do!” 

Shocked, Ron allowed her past him as she tried to keep the tears out of her eyes, at least until she could cast a silencing charm so that no one would hear her cry. She may be a girl, but she was Hermione Granger, and she was supposed to be strong, so nobody should have to listen to her falling apart.


	9. studying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> does what it says on the tin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's short, so you get another one!

Hermione sighed in relief as she walked into the empty, quiet library. There didn’t appear to be anyone there, but for all she knew someone could be hiding farther back in the stacks. Like Draco, though she figured if he was here he’d probably be studying, just as she intended to do. 

She still had that assignment that she’d failed to get a head start on to work on, when she’d ended up falling asleep instead. She could hardly believe that was only last night, it seemed like so long ago now, she felt like so much had changed in her life since then. Not that fighting with Ron was anything new, but about Draco of all people! That was new! 

Sometimes she wondered why she bothered, thought. People never seemed to change. Ron was still a git even after all these years of knowing him, hoping he’d mature past the point of constantly judging her for her choices, who she was. The only person she’d ever met who’d changed, and drastically at that, was Draco himself, but there was still a large part of her that was convinced there was some sort of reason behind his actions that he hadn’t revealed yet. What did he want from her? What could she possibly offer him? 

The only thing she could feasibly come up with at this point in time was the homework from Transfiguration, but surely he knew that after today and helping her prove to her friends that she didn’t give a damn what they thought, that her choices were her own, that all he had to do was ask her nicely and she’d be more than willing to help? Why go to all this trouble to deceive her in such detail? She knew he was a Slytherin, the Slytherin Prince as some people called him, but surely that was a little extreme? 

Of course, there was always the extraordinarily strange idea that there was no scheme, that he was just being nice to her for the sake of it. But he’d never acted remotely like Harry before in his life, so why start now? And why her? 

She felt the strangest urge to go and see Hagrid after classes that afternoon, somehow she always felt much better after talking to him, even if all he had to offer her were some of his inedible rock cakes and tea. He was a lovely person, his advice was rubbish, but what Hermione liked most about him was that he was willing to listen to her no matter what, and he never ever judged her for what she was telling him about. Maybe the fact that it was Draco that she wanted to talk to him about would change that, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t very well go and talk to Harry and Ron about it, so what other choice did she have? 

Nodding her head at her decision, she settled in to get some work done. That was what the library was for, after all.


	10. Hagrid's Hut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione goes to see Hagrid to talk through her Harry and Ron problem, gets a little advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've reached the end of pre-written stuff! Now, don't panic, I have more chapters written after this, but they're ones I've written recently rather than four years ago. In fact, the end of this chapter is newly written, see if you can notice the difference!

Hagrid’s cottage was as cold as it could be expected to be in the middle of winter. Hermione wished she’d grabbed something warm to wear before she came down, straight from the library. She’d taken a book with her, somehow managing not to crash into anything or anyone while she walked down here, still reading. A fascinating book, it was. 

“Hermione! It’s nice to see you again!” Hagrid engulfed her in a hug with these words, lifting her feet clear off the ground, making it very difficult to breathe. 

“Hagrid!” she managed to choke out. 

“Oh! Sorry!” he set her back on her feet, and it took her a few moments to regain her breath. 

Hagrid had moved away, towards the kettle by the time Hermione had regained her equilibrium. She took a few deep breaths, slowly moving toward one of the chairs in the corner of Hagrid’s small cabin. 

“Cup of tea?” Hagrid politely asked from over his shoulder as she got comfortable. The strap of her bag that she’d hastily strung over her shoulder as she left the library had been digging into her should for the entire walk down here, so it was a relief to take it off and tuck it under the table, though she was careful to mutter a few spells under her breath that would make it harder for Fang to find a way into it and chew up her precious books. That had happened just once before, but she would never forget it so now she always took precautions so that it never happened again. 

“Yes please,” she told Hagrid, trying not to let that slightly whiny note into her voice, but very probably failing miserably. She’d had quite a day, and a cup of tea with a good friend sounded like a wonderful way to end it. 

She paused before she opened her big mouth to tell him everything. What if he did judge her? He was friends with Harry first, after all. Surely he’d take his side, though as she recalled, it had mostly been Ron that was mad at her, and Harry had just seemed disappointed. Hagrid didn’t seem the type to judge, but one never really knew. 

“Hagrid…” she let her voice trail off, still not sure what to say, how to word what she wanted to say. “Have you ever…? What would you say if…”   
Hagrid chuckled, turning back to her with arms full of tea and all its trappings. “Slow down there, Hermione. Take a deep breath and then try again. I promise I won’t judge you.” 

She smiled, satisfied for a moment. Took a deep breath in, tried to forget all her apprehension. 

“What are your exact thoughts on Draco Malfoy?” she finally asked. 

Hagrid looked thoughtful for a moment. 

“Well, I can’t say that was what I was expecting you to ask. I was thinking you’d be mad at Harry and Ron for some silly little thing they’ve done to hurt your feelings again.” At this he paused, frowning. “Draco Malfoy. Can’t say I like him. Right little tyke he is, takes after his father, and we all know that isn’t a compliment, much as he might think it is. The kid wants to be just like his father someday, but I reckon he’s got too much of Narcissa in him for that. Remember that time when he just swaggered up to Buckbeak and expected him to like him because of who he was. Could’ve told him it didn’t work like that, but he didn’t want to listen to the likes of me. Probably doesn’t even think I should be here, let alone a teacher. Sometimes I think the little brat might have been right—“ at this Hermione cut off Hagrid’s distracted tirade. 

“That wasn’t exactly what I was asking, and who said you weren’t the most wonderful, kindest Care of Magical Creatures Professor this school has ever had. This school needs someone like you here, and they might not know it, but they need you,” Hermione cut him off, going off on a bit of her own tirade. She really hated when anyone took Hagrid for granted, because she often empathised with him, knowing that his experiences in the magical world were not really all that different from her own. They both suffered from extreme discrimination from their peers. That was, in fact, why she was so confused at the moment. 

She’d never really had any reason to doubt her reason or logic before in her life, but everything about Draco Malfoy seemed to defy everything she understood about the world, Muggle or otherwise. 

Hagrid sniffled, using one of his massive handkerchiefs to wipe his eyes. “Thanks, Hermione. Now, what were you asking then?” 

She cocked her head to the side, wondering how he was going to react to the stark words she was about to utter. 

“I wanted to know what you thought about Draco Malfoy because I’m not so sure about him anymore. Hagrid, I think he’s changed. A little at least. And I’m just so confused. Why would he help me? Why would he care? Why would he let me sleep on his shoulder, why would he make a stand with me against his friend and my friends too? I just don’t understand anything about him anymore, except that he’s different or that he’s using me. And if he is using me, what could he possibly be using me for? I’ve thought about it and I’ve thought about it, and just about lost my mind in the process, and I just cannot for the life of me figure it out! Figure him out!” her hands were flying wildly all over the place, and she only calmed down when she realised that Hagrid was laughing. Full on laughing, belly chuckles that meant he had to put down his cup of tea for fear of spilling it. And considering the size of Hagrid’s teacups, that was probably for the best. 

Hagrid finally calmed down enough to pick up his cup of tea again, taking one slow, contemplative sip. “That was a lot all at once, Hermione. I’m really not sure where to start, but I suppose the part that shocks me the most is that the guy that finally caught your eye had to be one that you’ve practically been at war with since day one here! Draco Malfoy of all people! What in Merlin’s beard did he do to get your knickers in such a knot?” Hagrid guffawed, the hint of a smile visible beneath his rather large beard and whiskers. 

Hermione shrugged, not certain what to say. She wasn’t really certain about anything at this point in time. All she wanted… She didn’t even know what she wanted, she certainly didn’t know what she needed, but drinking tea with Hagrid was proving to be entertaining and peaceful simultaneously, so she supposed that wasn’t so bad after all. 

When Hagrid realised that Hermione wasn’t going to answer his question, he reworded it. “Why don’t you start from the beginning?” 

"Well..." she started. "He was nice to me. He saw me when no one else did. Made me feel like I was less alone in the world" she tried to explain. She wasn't sure she was making sense when she saw the befuddled look take over Hagrid's face, twisting his demeanour of familiar homely warmth into something frosted with judgement. 

"Hermione, you were never alone. You have Harry and Ron, don't you?" he countered. 

She shrugged. "That may be, but when it comes to studying, they don't really get what motivates me. I think Draco does. Or, if I had an opportunity to get to know him better, I think we might be akin in some ways, if not in others" Hermione felt her brows furrow up in her own confusion. She really wasn't sure how she felt about Draco, or about anything, which was why she was here. Hagrid had always made her feel safe and understood in the past, was it really so much to ask that he hear her out before judging her? 

"I'm sure the boys'll come 'round" Hagrid tried to reassure her, slapping her on the back and causing her to choke on her tea.   
Hermione hummed, unsure if they'd ever see the person she was starting to see in one Draco Malfoy, too blinded by years of unthinking hatred and suspicion.   
"I think I'm gonna go. Thank you for the tea" she eventually said, placing her cup back in its accompanying saucer with a click before collecting her cloak and leaving before Hagrid could extricate himself from the human-sized table and stop her from leaving. 

Ironically, considering what she'd just confessed to him about her loneliness, she needed to be alone right now to process her own emotions before she had to interact with anyone else. 


	11. Thinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione looks out over the Black Lake and contemplates things until Draco joins her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a new chapter! Yay! I wrote this one about a week or so ago, instead of four years ago and it might take the story in a completely tonally different direction, but I don't really care. Hopefully you enjoy it anyway!

Heading out to the Black Lake, Hermione wondered what on earth had possessed her to confess to someone so entrenched in the side of the light, in the indoctrination against Slytherins that was subtly inherent in everything Professor Dumbledore ever preached, regardless of his supposed belief in "house unity". She'd just have to show them that they were wrong if telling them wasn't good enough. 

Bending down, she picked up a rock at random and considered throwing it into the lake in her frustration, until she saw the Giant Squid flapping his tentacles about and clearly having a wonderful time. She wished she could be as free, even if she were trapped for the rest of her abnormally long life in the one lake, constantly disturbed by annoying adolescents. 

Maybe it would help to talk to someone who wasn't really listening, someone who had no personal relationship with her at all, and therefore would be completely unbiased. Though the Giant Squid couldn't actually offer her advice in return, that didn't matter to her. 

"Uhh," she started, realising that it was actually really weird to try and talk to someone that wasn't a person. How strange it was to try and articulate your thoughts in such an unstructured setting. 

"You ok there?" a familiar voice asked from behind her. 

Jumping and spinning in place all in the one motion, her arm twitched and she almost launched the rock she'd picked up earlier and forgotten about at the intruder. Except the intruder was Draco and had his hands raised in the universal symbol for surrender. 

All the breath she'd been holding in sighed out of her in one big breath and she hunched over as if to protect herself from something, though she'd never felt safer. 

"I will be" her voice soft, the rock slipped from between numb fingers. 

And when she looked up, Draco was there, barely a foot from her, silver eyes questioning as if asking if she was alright with his proximity. All she wanted to do was to step even closer but something stopped her before her feet could make up her mind for her. 

"What's got your knickers in a knot?" he asked, and she wanted nothing more than to throw herself into his arms. But that would be excessive for someone she'd only just gotten to know beyond the bully she knew all too well, right? 

"Harry and Ron" she explained. 

"Those dimwits! They're always getting in your head about something, why do you let it bother you?" he almost shouted, bringing one hand up to gently touch her elbow, as if to test how receptive she'd be to his touch. 

She didn't shy away, instead, she wanted to lean into him but feared that such a move wouldn't be well-received. Sure, here he was making the first move, and yet she still didn't fully trust that his motives were pure. Which meant he was right, Harry and Ron had gotten in her head again. 

"Help me get them out of it?" she asked, looking up at him, hoping desperately that he'd say something sharp and witty that would take her mind off everything and maybe even make her laugh. 

He laughed. "Ok, Princess, wasn't expecting you to want to move that fast!" 

She flinched, "that's not what I meant and you know it!" she protested, blushing fiercely as she watched him break down into laughter that was barely even laughter, just huffs of breath forced from constricted lungs as Draco bent over his knees and seemed to be almost hyperventilating. 

"Oh, I know! But the look on your face was absolutely priceless!" he joked when he finally stood back up, clutching his stomach as if he'd laughed so hard that it ached. Maybe he had. She wished she could have shared in the humour. 

"What do you do when someone gets in your head?" she managed to ask when she'd sorted out her thoughts a little better, looking out over the lake again, except this time with Draco standing at her side. 

She glanced over at him just in time to see him shrug. 

"I normally sulk in my room alone until whoever caused my bad mood apologises" he spoke to the lake, not looking at her, as if he might be afraid of what she'd think of him. But who was she to judge, when she buried herself in books whenever she was stressed or emotional in any way, though that was her default anyway, so it was no wonder no one really noticed she was human at all. But he did, could somehow even read her mind from across the room and know when she was stressing about something. 

Even if she'd initially taken his attempts to get through to her as rudeness, it was nice to know that the issue other people had with her wasn't her fault. 

"You've seen what I do when I get emotional" she offered as a meagre source of company, glancing at him from the corner of her eyes to see how he was doing. 

"Yeah, you try to throw rocks at people who only mean well!" he joked, bumping his body against hers and sending her reeling from the unexpected motion. 

She laughed, short and harsh. "No, I bury myself in books and studying in the hope that if I linger long enough in the dry world of academia when I emerge again the nasty emotions will have faded and I won't have to deal with them. I'm a terrible Gryffindor, such a coward" she hung her head in shame. 

"People can be brave in so many interesting ways, I mean, you've met Neville! Isn't it a kind of bravery for him that he keeps coming to Professor Snape's classes despite how terrified of him he is? Who's to say that you don't exhibit your bravery in a different way than every other idiotic Gryffindor? House attributes have started to seem ridiculous to me recently anyway. Ambition is so isolating, I can't help wondering if you lot have got the right of it, believing in love and hope and all those things that I used to laugh at. I'd probably have said that the only thing that can keep you warm at night is enough money to buy a good blanket, whereas now I'd like to think those good relationships with the people that are important to me will keep me warm at night" Draco offered up his little speech, as if to reassure her, and strangely enough, she found that it was. 

"You make a good point, makes me wonder if we shouldn't have a Philosophy subject just for you, the next Plato" she joked, turning to him with one of the largest smiles she'd smiled in ages stretching her cheeks. 

"Ha!" he laughed, grinning at her like a fool. Except for a fool that she rather liked, and she didn't normally suffer fools, just ask Harry and Ron. When they weren't pissed off at her, that is. 

Which took her right back to what had driven her all this way to get away from it, but she was fast learning that she couldn't entirely run away from her own thoughts, not even in her beloved shelter of the printed word. 

"You ok?" Draco asked, tapping her lightly on the shoulder. 

She turned to face him. "Not really. It just hit me again how different Harry and Ron are from me, and always have been. Why are we even friends?" she wondered aloud. 

Draco whuffed out a breath. "You sure know how to ask the hard questions, don't you?" he laughed dryly. "Since I barely know you, I can't really offer you any insight on that one, you'll just have to figure it out on your own. But when you do, I'll still be here, even if those idiots aren't" was all he said before he turned and left her standing there looking out over the Lake and wondering when her life had become so confusing. 


	12. Slytherins...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blaise and Theo threaten Hermione (not to hurt Draco).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy! (Also, warning, I do have a few chapters ready after this, but I have new ideas for another Dramione fics now and also uni so I may be more than a little bit distracted and updates may slow down). And this one is short, so to follow the precedent I've set for myself, two chapters today!

The next few days passed in a blur for Hermione, a blur of class and studying wherever and whenever she could, not to distract herself from her own thoughts and the fact that Harry and Ron still weren't talking to her, but because she was genuinely behind on her schoolwork. So what if her idea of behind was different to everyone else's idea of being behind in their schoolwork, she had an image and standards to maintain and she wasn't about to let them slip. 

In her study breaks, she even found the time to meditate on past events, her own identity, that of Harry and Ron and Gryffindors in general based on what Draco had presented to her when they were beside the Lake. 

So she knew something was seriously wrong when Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott sat down next to her while she was ruminating on just such a thing as house identities and how house unity could even be possible considering how strictly their performative house identities were policed by the professors and especially Headmaster Dumbledore. 

"So, Draco finally cracked and told us what's been on his mind lately, and we admit we weren't shocked to hear that it was you, but we were surprised to learn that you were willing to talk to him in return" Zabini started. She'd known they were here to talk to her about something, and somehow it hadn't clicked in her brain that they were close friends with Draco, that they'd be here about that and not to beg her for help studying or something like that, as if being friends with Harry and Ron had poisoned her brain to think people always wanted something from her when they chose to talk to her. 

"And we just want you to know that we'll be keeping a close eye on the both of you, and if you do so much as hint that you're only using him for something, or hurt him in any way, we'll be there" Nott finished off Zabini's statement. 

Hermione was shocked. Did they really think she and Draco were that close already, that she mattered so much to him? She'd had no idea! 

"I assure you that hurting Draco is the last thing on my mind" she assured them, hands raised to placate them. 

"That's what we were worried about" they said in tandem, and Hermione's eyebrows raised. This certainly wasn't what she'd expected from her day. 

"You see, if Draco is the last thing on your mind, then that means you're quite capable of hurting him without even intending to, hurting him just by not thinking about him at all" Zabini theorised. 

"I see your point" Hermione conceded. "Then let me say that I shall endeavour to think of him kindly as often as I can" 

"I suppose that shall have to be enough for now" Nott sighed. And they both got up from where they'd been sitting and left her reeling. 

That was her first ever interaction with Slytherins other than Draco that had been mostly civil. Sure, they'd been threatening her not to hurt Draco, however unintentionally it might be done. And to her it was reassuring on two levels; that at least Draco wasn't being nice to her just to mess with her and that he'd been wrong about Slytherins being alone since he clearly had friends who were willing to look out for him. It made her jealous. She couldn't imagine Harry and Ron caring enough to do the same for her. 

However, now she knew it would be absolutely impossible for her to return to her studies for a while, she needed to get out of the library so she could think further on all this. 

It hit her as she was packing up her things that she'd been spending a lot of time thinking about anything and everything lately, and not a lot of time doing anything at all that wasn't studying. Maybe it was time she headed back to the common room to see if Harry and Ron had forgiven her yet. 


	13. forgiveness...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione goes to talk to Harry and Ron and they fight some more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully you enjoy!

Since it was the middle of the day, the common room was quiet when Hermione entered. She assumed that everyone was at lunch, and judging by the grumbling in her stomach, that's where she should be too. 

Plonking herself down on one of the armchairs in front of the fire, she considered it for a moment and then decided against it. It would be too public of a forum for the things she wanted to say to the boys. She'd wait until tonight. 

In the meantime, she'd summon a house elf to bring her a sandwich while she prepared for Potions class that afternoon. As usual, they had it with the Slytherins, which meant that she'd be seeing both Harry and Ron and Draco before she'd like to, given her most recent realisations. 

At least Professor Snape had organised for today to be a theory lesson, rather than a practical one, which meant that none of them would be in danger from distracted hormonal teenage boys. Besides, Hermione herself didn't feel in the right mindset to brew today. She'd be a danger to not just herself but everyone in her class if she had to brew today, even something as simple as a first-year potion! 

"Dobby" she said, and he popped into existence in front of where she still sat. 

"Miss" he greeted her. 

"Hi. Could I get a sandwich for lunch?" she asked. 

He bowed, then popped back down to the kitchens. A second passed, and he was back, carrying a platter of about five club sandwiches. 

"Dobby! I can't eat that much!" she protested. 

"Miss is too thin. She must eats more" he explained. 

Rolling her eyes, Hermione set to it, though she only got most of the way through her first sandwich before she was full. Setting it down on the piled-high plate, she looked up to see Dobby looking at her with disappointment clear in his expression. 

"I'm sorry Dobby, but I just can't eat any more. Maybe you could set these aside for me to eat later if I'm hungry?" she offered to placate him.   
He nodded, and with a snap of his knobbly fingers, both he and the plate were gone. Just in time, too, since at that very moment Hermione could hear Gryffindor students beginning to return from lunch. Harry and Ron would be among them, and then she could talk to them about their cruel words to her the day before. 

"Hermione?" came Harry's voice from within the crowd. "Why weren't you at lunch?" 

"I had Dobby bring me some sandwiches here instead" she explained. 

"Typical. I told you, Harry, she just wants to hide from us because she's afraid of the truth. Afraid to face the truth of that ferret she's been hanging around with! Did you think we wouldn't find out about your little rendezvous with the ferret yesterday? We have allies everywhere, unlike you two" Ron finished his tirade. 

Hermione stared at him, too shocked to react. He had a point, which she hated to concede, nothing ever stayed a secret for long in the closeted environment of Hogwarts. 

"It wasn't deliberate" she defended herself. "I went to see Hagrid after you were both so mean to me, and after that I went to the Lake and Draco just showed up" she explained. 

Ron laughed a maniacal laugh while Harry just looked disbelieving. "You expect us to believe that? After the way you've been behaving lately?" Ron continued his tirade. 

Hermione was confused. "Exactly how is that? And how is how I behave a problem that affects you since I've barely seen you lately?" she asked him, directing her words specifically at Ron since she had a feeling his words were meant specifically for her and were not meant to include Harry in any way. 

"Wait, are you jealous? You know there's nothing between me and Draco, right?" she continued when it hit her why Ron might be overreacting to all this. 

"Considering that you call him Draco already, I'll be the judge of that" Ron spat. Harry was agog, and Hermione glanced at him to see if he was going to step in like he normally did to try and calm Ron down when he got like this. 

"So? It's just a name" her brow wrinkled as she wondered what this was really about. Ron should know by now that she'd spent years crushing on him and if he'd wanted to be with her, then he'd had his chance and it had long passed by now. But she wasn't going to come straight out and say it, he needed to figure that out on his own, then maybe they could come to some sort of adult understanding over the whole situation. 

"That's not what Shakespeare said!" Ron protested. 

"Actually, that's exactly what he said! Though I'm surprised you've ever heard of him, but I'm not that you haven't read any of his works because the actual quote goes 'A rose by any other name would smell as sweet'" Hermione asserted her own argument, refusing to make eye contact with Ron as she begged Harry with the strength of her gaze to support her. She knew he wasn't very studious himself, but having grown up around muggles, surely he'd remember that iconic line from one of Shakespeare's most famous sonnets? 

"Well, how am I to know that, you're the muggleborn!" Ron shouted, hands flying out from his body, and she was forced to step back and out of their reach. 

Gasping, she felt something inside her tear, and she pushed past the both of them and left the common room as quickly as her legs would carry her. She'd come here because she was hoping to sit down with her boys and have an adult conversation about their problems, but instead she'd been attacked on the premise of her blood status, something she'd have expected from the Draco the boys no doubt remembered from prior school years, but since the war, he'd been nothing but respectful to her, if a little rude sometimes. She'd never expected such behaviour from Ronald Weasley, of all people! And for Harry to just stand there and let it happen! 


	14. Solace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco accidentally bump into each other in the library and flirt moarrrrrrrr.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the cute! I tried to amp it up lol

At least she had back to back classes that afternoon that didn't involve either Harry or Ron, which consisted of Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, two of her favourite subjects. She could do as she'd always done and seek solace in academia, just as a temporary measure until she could retreat to her chambers and seek out a more permanent solution to her issues. 

Except she bumped into Luna as she was rushing to the other side of the castle to get to her class. 

"Hermione! Are you ok?" Luna grabbed her arm and pulled her to a complete standstill. Hermione was momentarily stunned by her exhibition of strength. 

"No, and Luna, I'd love to chat, but I'm late for class" Hermione told her, looking at the hallway and swearing that it got longer the more time she was kept here by Luna's gentle touch on her arm. She could have easily pulled away, but there was a part of her buried deep that didn't want to. 

"I hope you find what you're looking for" Luna left her with an airy wave before she skipped away down the hallway. 

Hermione watched her leave, confused but pleased. It was just the kind of wake-up call that she needed that her problems really weren't the end of the world. 

While she had a few friends, Luna only had Harry. Well, as far as Hermione knew. Perhaps it would be worthwhile befriending her, for both their sakes.   
But for now, she had a class to get to. 

*** 

Once class was over, Hermione found herself breaking the promise she'd made to herself earlier that day and heading directly for the library to bury herself in some more studying, a part of her that she refused to admit to hoping that she'd bump into Draco while she was there. Who could blame her if she wanted some comfort after the day she'd had so far today? 

Sighing, she plonked her book bag down on the table she'd claimed in the library since her first year. Everyone knew that it was hers, and not to sit there, except for today, apparently. Nothing could go right for her today! 

Then she sat down, looked up and realised it was Draco himself. 

"Here to kick me out?" he asked her. 

Her eyes about goggled out of her head! 

"Actually, I was half-hoping I'd see you here, I mean, I wasn't expecting to see you at my table, but I was looking forward to seeing you" she confessed, refusing to make eye contact with him. 

"Really? And to think that no one's wanted to see me all day today, except for the one person who I also most wanted to see" he returned the favour of her openness, scooting closer to her on the bench that connected the two of them, since they'd somehow both chosen to sit on the same side of the table. 

"Well, I'm sure the two idiots I called friends were behind that. They apparently got word of our rendezvous over the weekend and I guess people weren't happy. Lord knows why, it's none of anyone's business who I choose to spend my time with, and the same goes for you" Hermione raged in the softest voice she could muster, since she knew if she shouted the way she wanted to, Madam Pince would be on them in a heartbeat and they'd be out on their arse. 

"Called? You don't consider them your friends anymore? What have the idiotic duo done now?" Draco asked her, voice soft and his hand gentle as it arrived on her shoulder. Normally she'd have shrugged it off, but for once she appreciated the contact. 

"Well, Ron as good as called me a Mudblood, so of course I'm pissed! And Harry basically stood there and let him!" she ranted, turning to look questioningly into his silver eyes as if she could see the truth in his eyes. "You don't think I'm overreacting, do you?" she asked, glancing down in shame, though she wasn't entirely sure what she was ashamed of. 

She felt warm hands lifting her chin and she was forced to look into silver eyes filled with so much warmth they were practically molten, and they as good as melted her soul with their heat. 

One of his blond eyebrows raised in question, and she wasn't sure what he was asking, but she nodded anyway, because somehow, against all their personal history, she found that she trusted him. 

And he wrapped his arms around her and she melted into his hard body, even untangling her hands that had been clasped in her lap so that they closed around his back. 

"I don't think you overreacted at all" he whispered into her hair, the warmth of his breath tickling her scalp and neck. "In fact, what you've just told me makes me want to kill the Weasel even more than I normally do. But I'm sure you don't appreciate my occasional murderous urges, so I'll restrain myself. For now. If he so much as blinks at you wrong, just know that I will end him" he reassured her, still in that soft voice. And she knew she shouldn't be comforted by such words, but she couldn't help the butterflies his words caused to stir in her stomach. 

Untangling herself from the puddle she'd become within his arms, she shook her head, though the smile she wore belied her true attitude to his words. 

"That's sweet, but you're damn right I'll be pissed if you go off murdering anyone" she told him, barely suppressing a laugh. If she let loose the laugh squatting on her chest, they'd surely be thrown out of the library for disturbing the peace. 

His hand was still resting on her shoulder and he squeezed it as if to comfort her. 

"No murder" he agreed, smiling at her. And it hit her that she'd never seen him properly smile like that before, and she liked it. A lot. 

"Maybe we should get out of here before we get kicked out for having too much fun" she chuckled as softly as she could. 

"Maybe we should" Draco affirmed, scooting away from her on the bench and starting to pack away his things. 

She took that as the acceptance she'd been looking for, and began to do the same. 


	15. CONFESSIONS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Covers the events of the last chapter plus a bit more, but from Draco's POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> REMINDER: Caps Locked chapter titles mean the chapter is told from Draco's POV. Hope you enjoy! And because this is so samey to the last chapter, ya'll get two chapters today!

He was surprised to see Hermione so soon after their moment over the weekend. He'd thought for sure that she'd avoid him until she was forced to be in his presence for a class or something. 

And yet here she was, looking like she wanted to escape all her problems in the library by studying so much until her brain was full of unnecessary facts until she could drown her sorrows in them. Not that he could judge since he was here to do the exact same thing. 

Completely ineffectually, since the person he was trying to escape had just stomped her way into the library and would probably be kicking him off her table in a second, just as soon as she saw him there. 

Except she didn't look up even once she'd plonked down her book bag, earning her a proprietary glare from Madam Pince.   
"Here to kick me out?" he asked, one hand casually on his own still-packed book bag so that he'd be ready to leave immediately if she came out of her fugue curse-slinging before question-asking. 

"Actually, I was half-hoping I'd see you here, I mean, I wasn't expecting to see you at my table, but I was looking forward to seeing you" 

Draco was shocked by her confession. He felt the same way, but he certainly wasn't expecting the Gryffindor Princess to reciprocate those feelings, certainly not this early in the piece. He'd expected her to be more blind, stubborner than this. 

"Really? And to think that no one's wanted to see me all day today, except for the one person who I also most wanted to see" he spoke softly, eyes focused on the table before him as he bared his heart for anyone in their immediate vicinity to witness. Luckily, that was only Hermione, and from what he knew of her so far, she'd never willingly betrayed his confidence. 

When she didn't reply, he took the opportunity to scoot closer to her on the bench, craving the opportunity for physical as well as emotional closeness with someone he trusted, despite all prior experience and logic itself screaming at him not to. 

"Well, I'm sure the two idiots I called friends were behind that. They apparently got word of our rendezvous over the weekend and I guess people weren't happy. Lord knows why, it's none of anyone's business who I choose to spend my time with, and the same goes for you" Draco couldn't help but stare at her as he took in her words. Did that mean... No, she couldn't possibly mean to extend the same courtesy she expected from her friends to him as well? That would mean she'd forgiven him for all the cruel things he'd said to her in the past. 

Surely he didn't deserve that? ...Unless he'd totally misread the situation, again. 

Then it hit him what she'd led with; "Called? You don't consider them your friends anymore? What have the idiotic duo done now?" he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder in a show of support and was even more shocked when she didn't shake it off. 

"Well, Ron as good as called me a Mudblood, so of course I'm pissed! And Harry basically stood there and let him!" his eyes about fell out of his head when he heard that! Surely the Weasel would be the last person to call her that when he himself knew how much that word would hurt her. Though, she hadn't specifically said that he did call her... that word... just that he'd implied it? Well, it was still a low-blow from a so-called hero. 

"You don't think I overreacted, do you?" she asked, turning her big brown eyes onto him before deflecting her gaze to the tabletop as if she was ashamed, though he had no idea why. Surely she'd never done anything wrong in her entire life, ever? 

So he decided that he had to do everything he possibly could to comfort her in her time of distress. No one deserved to be vilified by their own friends like this, but especially not her. It was about time someone showed her what an amazing woman she really was since those idiotic friends of hers clearly didn't appreciate her the way she was. 

He lifted his hands to her chin and raised it until she was forced to look him in the eyes. He raised one eyebrow as a subtle way to ask her if it was alright by her if he hugged her. He hadn't always been one for so much physical contact, but then after the war, he'd done a lot of therapy and he'd realised how touch-starved and emotionally stunted he'd been. It was a lot to work through but he felt like a better man now because of it. 

She nodded, though he saw by the confusion on her face that she'd hadn't known what she was agreeing to. So he moved slowly as he wrapped his arms around her slender body. 

She stiffened in his arms at first, but after a moment of prolonged contact, she seemed to melt into him, untangling her hands that had been trapped between them in her lap and returning the embrace. 

"I don't think you overreacted at all" he whispered into her hair as he finally found the right words to say now that the pressure of her warm eyes was off him. "In fact, what you've just told me makes me want to kill the Weasel even more than I normally do. But I'm sure you don't appreciate my occasional murderous urges, so I'll restrain myself. For now. If he so much as blinks at you wrong, just know that I will end him" he murmured. 

She seemed to freeze in his arms and he wondered what he'd said wrong. He probably shouldn't have added that murderous part, should he? Berating himself, he let her slip out of his arms, missing her warmth already. 

Instead of leaving him there in shock, or shouting at him, she just shook her head, with a sort of twinkle in her eyes as if something he'd said had amused her. it was devilish, and he wanted to put that smile on her face all the time. 

"That's sweet, but you're damn right I'll be pissed if you go off murdering anyone" she said, with a sort of mock-serious expression on her face, as if she was suppressing a laugh. It was adorable. 

He reached out to squeeze her shoulder for just one more comforting gesture before he swore to himself that he'd keep his hands to themselves from now on. Unless she requested that he touch her, which he doubted. 

"No murder" he agreed, smiling widely at her. And the way that she looked at him, he knew he'd done the right thing. 

*** 

Leaving the library for somewhere quieter was the smartest decision they'd ever made, Draco decided as he walked down the hallways of Hogwarts beside the Hermione Granger. This had got to be the best day of his life, aside from the day he and all his family had miraculously survived the final battle. 

"Hey, let's go to the Room of Requirement and see if it's repaired itself yet" Hermione turned to him to say, skipping ahead of him as she walked.   


He grimaced, not wanting to go back to the place one of his oldest friends had died in the Fiendfyre he'd unleashed on himself. Just like Hermione probably wouldn't want to go back to the drawing room at Malfoy Manor where she was tortured for hours by Bellatrix. Thank God that bitch was dead, and God bless Molly Weasley. Maybe he should send her a card thanking her? 

Pulling himself out of his own morbid thoughts, he realised he still hadn't replied to Hermione, or that they'd come to a standstill. Hermione was looking at him like she was concerned for him, which he appreciated. But he didn't want her to worry about him, so he was going to have to come up with some sort of convincing excuse soon. 

"I'm fine" he offered, that age-old lie that everyone said when they absolutely were not fine. "I just... um, maybe there's somewhere better we could go?" 

She frowned, and he knew she wasn't buying it. "What's really wrong Draco, you know you can trust me, so just spit it out" 

He chuckled. "Fine, I just don't really feel comfortable going back to the Room of Requirement after Crabbe died in there" he pointed out, leaning against the wall so that he didn't crumble to his knees on the cold flagstone floor. 

Hermione gasped, rushing over to him from where she'd been hovering a few feet away as if she'd wanted to give him space. Now she was crowding him, except he didn't mind in the slightest. 

"Gosh, I'm so sorry! I didn't think! Forgive me?" Hermione whispered. He turned to look at her and found her eyes focused a little too intently on the floor to be examining its structural integrity. She was embarrassed. 

"It's ok" he claimed. "We all suffered, it's normal to forget what others suffered when you're so busy focusing on your own trauma" 

It was only when he watched a tear run down her down-turned face that he realised what he'd said, and how she might misconstrue it. Trust him to go and screw up the one friendship he actually cared about maintaining after the war, the one that wasn't about money or power or anything remotely Slytherin in nature—just a true, human connection. 

Well, that was that, he thought as he watched her run away from him the way they'd come just minutes before as if he'd lit her arse on fire.   
Chuckling to himself, since that was quite the picture to warm his icy soul, he pushed himself out from the wall and headed back to the dungeons. It was time to bask in the mire of his own bad decisions and an idiotic mouth that was constantly getting him into trouble. 


	16. Betrayal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione bumps into Luna and they have a heart-to-heart in the kitchens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting close to the end of my pre-written chapters, and I might have to switch to a weekly update schedule soon just so that I can stay ahead of my updates! Especially with the university semester coming to an end and I have assessments I'm supposed to be working on instead of continuing to procrastinate by writing fic. Lemme know what day/time works best for you all, otherwise I'll just pick a time I'm more likely to remember! :P Hope you enjoy this!

Hermione had had the absolute worst day, and she thought it couldn't possibly get worse when she'd gone to the library and seen Draco there. Sure, he'd comforted her, and been incredibly sweet about the whole thing, which had been lovely. But then he had to go and open his big mouth, didn't he, and prove to her once again what a selfish git he really was! 

And she couldn't even go to Harry and Ron to whinge about it after the events of this morning! 

It was then that she saw Luna traipsing down the hallway toward her! Maybe she could take her up on her offer earlier instead of having that admittedly wonderful hug with Draco. 

"Luna!" she called out, hoping that the other girl would hear her. She was often off with the fairies, whether literally or just metaphorically Hermione was never sure. 

But if there was one thing she was sure about, it was that conversations with Luna always proved illuminating, though never in the way she expected.   


Luna skipped over to her with a wistful smile on her face. Hermione returned it, though it was a struggle making it genuine when all she wanted to do was cry. 

"Are you ok, Hermione? I saw you in the library earlier with Draco and everything seemed fine, but now you seem even more upset" Luna asked her, placing a tender hand on Hermione's forearm. She found she appreciated the gesture. 

"Not really" she confessed, sniffling as she tried to hold back her tears. 

"Hm. Let's get you somewhere nicer where we can chat. The kitchen maybe? We can have a cup of tea by the fire" Luna offered, tucking Hermione's arm into her elbow and marching her off down the hallways and deeper into the bowels of the castle. 

She tickled the pear on the still-life portrait, which allowed them to enter the kitchens. Hermione was pretty sure that though hardly any of the student body knew where the kitchens were, most of the Hufflepuffs must know where they were, judging by how close their common room was to them. Surely at least Susan Bones with her obsession for baking must know the location, and surely she could be bribed into sharing the location with others? 

Hermione followed where Luna dragged her into the bustling cavern of a room, filled to the rafters with house elves scurrying about preparing their dinners, washing students' clothes and still others were still dealing with a mountain of dishes left over from lunch. 

"Hermy! Loona!" Dobby screeched as he ran over to them and hugged both of their legs. 

Luna laughed, bending down to embrace the creature as if he was one of her closest friends. Hermione wasn't sure what she saw in him. Sure, Dobby was a kind house elf, but Hermione didn't really consider him a friend. She barely knew him! 

"What can I does for yous?" Dobby asked when he finally detached himself from Luna and Hermione. 

"Dobby, we'd like to sit somewhere quiet, with a pot of tea to share, and maybe something to nibble on? Hermione's had a bit of a rough day" Luna told Dobby and Hermione was shocked to see his already oversized eyes grow to the size of saucers, a most disconcerting sight when his face was already so small in diameter. 

Dobby eventually nodded and scurried off to do as Luna asked. In the meantime, Luna led Hermione to a small round table hidden in the corner of the chaotic room. 

Hermione hadn't known it was there, but then again, she didn't make a habit of visiting the kitchens when summoning Dobby was usually much simpler and more convenient. It saved her the trouble of traipsing across the castle to actually attend meals and interrupting her precious study time. Though now she found herself thankful that she could do something other than study, even if it included something new and unfamiliar to her. 

It was kind of exciting, in a weird way. Sure, it was just tea in the kitchens, but with someone she didn't normally hang out with, on the worst day of her life. It was the best time to be trying new things. 

Luna pulled out a chair and steered her into it, so she sat down with a plonk and slumped over the tiny table. All she really wanted was to inhale her tea and crawl into bed while snuggling with Crookshanks. Was that so much to ask for? 

But she didn't get time to get into her sulk as Luna dragged her upright again, and a tray with all the trappings for tea was set down before them, along with a plate of biscuits. 

Grabbing a handful, she sat back in her chair and stuffed them in her face, enjoying the way the buttery chocolate chips blended in with the baked dough melted in her mouth. There was nothing as effective as chocolate for mending a terrible day. Except for a good cup of tea and someone you trusted enough to unload all your problems on them. Not that she expected that of Luna without at least the potential for reciprocation at some point in the future. 

"So, what'd Draco do to make you so upset?" Luna asked as she handed her a cup of tea made exactly the way Hermione liked it. She had no idea how Luna had known that was how she took her tea. Maybe she was just psychic? 

She shrugged. "I don't think he really meant to upset me. You see, we were heading somewhere private so we could chat and not get kicked out of the library" she explained. "when I suggested that we go to the Room of Requirement to see if it had repaired itself yet, and he seemed reticent, and I'd forgotten about Crabbe dying in there, so I asked him why and he told me. I apologised, and he said he understood. But then he said that it was understandable that I'd forgotten because I was so caught up in my own trauma, and I realised that I'd been using him in order to heal from the atrocities of the war, since I can hardly trust Harry and Ron to be emotionally mature enough to help me and themselves at the same time. In fact, they can barely manage to help themselves as it is. I just felt so guilty that I'd forgotten something so essential to him when he's done so much for me, you know?" 

Luna had sat silently through all of Hermione's speech, but now she nodded, took a sip of her tea, and overall looked very thoughtful. 

"I don't think you have anything to feel guilty about Hermione. Draco was right, we have all suffered because of this war, and it’s normal when we're this damaged to only consider ourselves. It's a form of self-preservation, really. In situations like these, we'd break ourselves even more if we tried to care about someone else. So, for Draco to say something like that, we can safely assume that he didn't mean to hurt you at all, and is in a good place mentally, which enables him to help you if you only trust him to do so" Luna explained, surprising Hermione by for once not talking in absurd metaphors about auras and strange creatures no one had ever heard of except her and her father. 

Hermione finished the rest of her cup of tea as she thought over what Luna had said. it was quite a bit to take in. But she knew that the Ravenclaw had a point, logically she knew Draco hadn't meant to offend her at all. She was just projecting all her stress after the war onto his words. 

She should probably hunt him down tomorrow and apologise for actually overreacting this time. 

"Thanks, Luna" she said as she set down her empty teacup and poured another one from the teapot. "That really put a fresh perspective on things for me, you're the best. I don't know why I didn't talk to you about these things before" 

Luna laughed, and it sounded like wind chimes tinkling in the wind. "Because you thought I was crazy like everyone else does, but that's ok. It can be intimidating to contend with people who see the world in such different ways to ourselves" 

Hermione nodded since that was indeed true. She knew she tended to view the world in a very narrow framework, and if someone else's framework didn't match hers then she was too quick to disregard its merits. 

"For that, I do apologise Luna, I see now that I was wrong to dismiss your intelligence in your own merit. We should meet up like this more often, just us girls" Hermione offered, crunching down on a biscuit. 

Luna cocked her head to one side as if she was considering her offer. 

"That sounds wonderful" Luna replied, a soft, mysterious smile on her face. 


	17. FALLOUT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco confesses his falling out with Hermione with Blaise and Theo, who give him some sound advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy! I almost finished a whole chapter yesterday, and I have a few still written up and ready to go after this, and if I keep procrastinating uni work like this, I should be able to keep up with these daily updates! #touchwood :P (Also this one is short so two chapters today!)

Draco stumbled into the common room and flung himself down on the empty couch. Zabini and Nott sat down on either side of him, and he knew he was in for a serious chat, probably about his friendship with Hermione Granger. He did appreciate that they cared enough about him to ensure that he wasn't being mistreated, but it was a little suffocating sometimes. 

"You don't look so good, what's up Drake?" Nott asked. 

Draco sighed into the couch from where he'd belly-flopped onto it. He never wanted to move again. 

Of course, he'd managed to open his mouth while trying to be kind and understanding while only managing to hurt the one person he actually cared about aside from his mother! It did make him wonder if there was anything he could do to make it up to her? Would flowers and chocolate cut it, or was that too cliche for an incredible witch like her? 

"Did the Gryffindor Princess screw you over? That sucks, but we're not surprised. It was only a matter of time before she turned on you” Blaise added. "We heard some hot goss that you two were spotted together in the library today having a moment and then you left together. And now we find you here looking like pure shit and not ensconced somewhere with her? What's going on, and you can tell us the truth, we won't judge" 

Groaning, Draco rolled over on the couch and stared up at the ceiling. 

"Fine. She wanted to go to the Room of Requirement because she'd forgotten that Crabbe died there, so I explained why. She apologised, I told her it was ok, said some other stuff about how we forget about other people's trauma in the face of our own. I guess she took that quite personally, even though I meant well, and she ran off. The worst part is we were getting on so well before that, and I don't know if she'll ever forgive me" he told them, refusing to look at them. He felt ashamed, though he couldn't exactly say why. 

"That's so not your fault, Drake. You were just stating the truth, and it's on her if that made her uncomfortable. If anything, I think she owes you an apology rather than you owing her one. Though, knowing what women are like, the next time you see her you'd better apologise anyway, especially if you want her to think well of you" Nott theorised. 

Draco turned his head to look at him, sitting gracelessly in the armchair across the way by a few feet, considering the wisdom of his words. 

"You're right. Considering my feelings is relatively new to her, but she's normally such a kind person that the idea of hurting me, even accidentally, must be as painful to her as it is to me, and she got so embarrassed that she ran off! At least, that's my working theory" he conceded, sitting up now as he felt warmth rush through him. Maybe she wasn't all that mad at him after all! He hadn't lost all the progress they'd made through one misconstrued sentence! 

"That's fair. She must be used to being the mature one, always looking after those two idiots she calls friends, and I'm sure they haven't done much to help her heal from the after-effects of the war. They're probably too busy looking out for themselves, barely being able to find their way out of a paper bag with the exit clearly labeled without her help. Since you're in a better place since you went to that doctor for help"—Draco scoffed at this—"no judgement mate, we get it! Look, if it makes you feel any better, I went to see someone after the war too. Dunno about Nott, but anyway, I reckon, if you want to, that you could probably help her out a bit" Zabini thought aloud. 

So he thought about it for a minute. It was true that his nightmares had been less severe lately. As frequent as they'd been post-war, of course, but not nearly as terrifying, and not just because he was used to them. 

Though by the simple fact of his still calling them nightmares, even in his own head, they were still terrifying in their own way. But at least he didn't have to watch his parents being tortured by that monster for his own failures in his head every night. Now it was mostly stupid teenage things, like Hermione calling him names or betraying him in some way. Or his mother abandoning him. 

Still psychologically torturous, for sure, but still thematically a lot less damaging to his psyche than those prior nightmares had been. 

"I'll certainly think about it" he told them, still thinking it through. "Of course, it would help if she also had someone else to lean on, so it doesn't end up just being me, because I've seen what that does to a person. Mother is emotionally crippled because of all the emotional labour she did for my father, and I won't be that for her. But I can certainly help her out a little, nudge her gently in the directions she doesn't realise she needs to be nudged in" 


	18. Apology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco apologise to each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! Happy weekend to you all from Australia <3

Upon awakening the next morning, Hermione wondered if the nightmares she hadn't had the night before was a sign that she was beginning to heal from the trauma of the war. 

Rolling out of bed, she grabbed her wand from where she'd stored it underneath her pillow and began to get ready for the day. She'd prepared an apology for Draco if she should bump into him today because she didn't think they had any classes together that day. Possibly she could find him in the library in her free period if she was lucky. 

Until such time, she knew she needed to set aside her stress before it really started to negatively impact her other relationships. If she couldn't maintain even her oldest friendships, how was she supposed to craft any new ones? 

Shrugging away that depressing thought, she headed into the bathroom before Lavender and Parvati woke up and spent the rest of the morning on their extensive beauty routines. Not that there was anything wrong with that, and they did see results due to the effort they put in, it just wasn't Hermione's vibe, and did tend to interfere with her own speedy morning routine. But over the years they'd learned how to avoid one another and still get what they wanted from their day. 

Shower done, teeth brushed, Hermione headed back into the bedroom wrapped in her towel and carrying her pyjamas under her arm. She closed the curtains around her four-poster and grabbed a clean uniform from her trunk where all her clothes were neatly stacked in folded piles. She loved being able to be confident in her wardrobe choices when there were no choices. 

*** 

The rest of her morning moved incredibly slowly, her classes more boring than they'd ever seemed to her, especially since she didn't share any classes with Luna and Harry and Ron were still angry at her, which made deciding where to sit in class incredibly awkward. 

Burying herself in the intellectual challenge of academia seemed like an adequate strategy to cope for now, till she could find either Luna or Draco to figure out another coping mechanism that would work as well for her. Maybe knitting would also work as a distraction strategy? Especially if she did it by hand instead of enchanting the needles to knit for themselves. 

Although maybe it would become monotonous once she got more used to the repetitive motions and that would allow her mind to wander, which was exactly what she didn't want. Would it be possible to use it as a kind of meditation device, though? She'd have to ask Luna. 

It was as she was walking to Potions she felt someone grab her arm and drag her into an alcove and out of sight. No one notices her sudden disappearance since her only friends in that class have been ignoring her existence all day. 

Looking up, she realised it was Draco. 

"What are you doing?" she asked him. Then shook her head to clear it of her confusion. She'd wanted a chance to apologise, and here it was, and what was she doing? Being an idiot, that's what! 

"Draco, I'm so sorry about yesterday. Luna helped me realise that I was projecting my own trauma from the war onto you and that my high expectations of myself can be toxic, especially when I project them onto the people around me when it's me that's failed" she hung her head in shame. "For that, I sincerely apologise, and though I don't expect you to forgive me, I can promise to try to do better" 

Draco was still holding her arm, and he slid his hands down to her hands and held them. He brought them up in between their faces so she was forced to look at him. 

So she did. And his eyes were so intense that she practically melted from the heat of his puppy-dog eyes. 

"You have nothing to apologise for! It's my fault for expecting you to remember my own trauma from the war when you're embroiled in your own. Blaise and Theo helped me to think through it all, to which I'm very grateful. I'm happy to be a support person of sorts for you, just until you get something more permanent sorted out with regards to like therapy and stuff." Draco confessed. 

Hermione cocked her head to one side, she didn't understand how he was the one apologising to her when she was the one that had fucked up! 

"Wait, did you say you'd been talking to Lovegood?" he added when she didn't reply. "She helped me so much after the war ended. Even approached me before I could summon the courage to apologise to her after her stint in our dungeons. She wanted to see if I was ok, after everything she'd been through at my hands? You couldn't be going to a better person for help than her. We don't talk much anymore, but I'll always be grateful to her for forgiving me before I'd even apologised to her, and for then putting her pride aside to help me when she didn't have to. She's a remarkable woman" 

Draco continued when she continued to stay silent. 

Hermione considered all of this before she opened her big fat mouth which seemed to be getting her in a lot of trouble lately. 

The person that Draco had described did sound a lot like the Luna she'd interacted with last night, and maybe that meant she was on the right path.   
"What was it exactly that she did that helped you so much?" she asked. "Did she talk you through things, or just recommend that you go and see someone else who's professionally capable of talking you through them?" she clarified since she didn't want to sound rude. 

"Well, at first, she talked to me a bit, since I wasn't exactly receptive to the idea of bearing my heart and soul and all the encompassing family drama to a complete stranger, but she explained that it would all be completely confidential and talked me through a few things until I started to see things differently, if not exactly the way she wanted me to see them. These things have nuances, I've found. There are no black and white, no easy answers" he explained. 

Hermione felt her heart sink at his last words, distinctly remembering Professor Snape's painfully accurate feedback on a lot of her Potions assessments that she needed to think more creatively, outside of the box so to speak, instead of always looking for academically verified answers. To trust in her own judgement, rather than the words of others. That not everything had an answer that she could look up in a book and that those answers in the books weren't always entirely accurate. 

In fact, after the war, she'd done an accelerated history course over the summer and learned a lot about how we all have our own biases, formed through current political events and how we're positioned in society through that discourse of politics. And that's not even to mention the contextual and cultural biases that shape all of our opinions. 

So it made sense that there would be barriers positioned around Draco's prior mentality with regards to seeking therapy for his post-war trauma. And it certainly wasn't something she'd considered, though, with her more muggle background, she certainly should have. 

"You might have a point" she conceded. "Now, we'd better go or we'll be late to class" 


	19. Therapy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione, Harry and Ron patch things up and have a serious discussion by the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit longer, and I think I'll be switching to weekly updates now. Not sure what day yet, maybe Friday or Saturday? Just so I can keep up with writing it and with uni at the same time. Enjoy!

Once class was over, Hermione felt a great weight lift off her shoulders. It was about time she sorted out her problems for herself instead of relying on the people around her.  Perhaps she could ask Draco the name of the therapist he'd gone to see and if they'd had any knowledge of the magical world at all and if they didn't, would that limit the effectiveness of her sessions. 

Now that she'd made this decision, she had all those questions and no one to direct them at since she couldn't see Draco anywhere at all in her immediate vicinity. 

She guessed he must have slunk off to the Slytherin common rooms, but that she'd see him around someplace else, the library maybe. Which is where she'd be headed too if it weren't for the fact that she was freezing down here in the dungeons and needed to go back to the Gryffindor tower to change into something warmer as the sun sank further in the sky until it set and she was stuck in this draughty castle with inadequate layers. 

As she allowed the flow of traffic carry her along the corridors and above the basement levels of the castle, she felt someone's elbow catch hers and she stumbled as she tripped on her own feet. Correcting her balance, she glanced around to see who'd bumped into her and saw Harry and Ron beside her as if everything was back to normal. It was very strange. 

Shrugging it off, she decided to ignore them until they deigned to speak to her. She wasn't going to let them disturb her newly found mental peace until there was no alternative for it. She admitted to herself that she was a little curious about what could have happened in the space of one class to make them change their minds about how they felt about her, but she wasn't going to give in to them without sticking to her guns first. 

It was only as they were emerging onto the ground level of the castle that Harry spoke. 

"Hermione, we're sorry for how we've treated you these past few days. We couldn't help but overhear your conversation with Malfoy and we just want you to know how deeply sorry we are for being so absorbed in our own problems that we didn't notice how much you were struggling as well. We understand your relationship with him now, and it's a little insulting really to think that has only gotten to know you more recently was able to notice your struggles before we did! But that was because we were so wrapped up in ourselves, and you've always been so strong, that it didn't occur to us that you're human too" Harry rambled on, causing Hermione to smile since she could see that he was being genuine. 

Despite his use of plural pronouns, and the way Ron had nodded along furiously to everything Harry said, she wasn't sure if he was fully on board with everything Harry had said. Surely there must still be resentment there about the way she'd turned him down after the battle was over, especially considering his family's long-standing feud with the Malfoy's. 

But, she was willing to let that slide for now, until it truly became a problem she couldn't ignore. 

"I accept your apology and I'm glad you came around" Hermione offered with a soft smile in return. "But if you ever assume to know something about me just because of the length of time you've known me again, I won't be happy" she warned. 

"Will you join us in the common room tonight at least?" Harry continued. "We have something we'd like to show you" 

Sighing, Hermione nodded. "I suppose I could" she conceded. 

"Great! We'll see you after dinner, then? I assume you'll be spending the time until then in the library studying?" Harry replied.   
Hermione cocked her head to the side as she thought about it. 

"What do you two plan on doing in the meantime?" she asked. "I'm trying to branch out recently, try not to rely so much on studying as a way to escape everything else going on in my life, so I don't see why we can't get a head start on whatever you guys have to share with me" she explained. 

From the corner of her eye, she saw Ronald rolling his eyes which did annoy her a little bit if she wanted to move on, she'd have to let it go. 

"That's great!" Harry exclaimed. "Then we can go to the common room now then!" 

She laughed, and things felt a little like they used to. 

*** 

It felt a little strange to be back in the common room, and not be fighting with Harry and Ron. Maybe it would be different this time? Maybe they'd accept her for who she was now, especially since she felt like a different person ever since the war had ended. 

It was entirely possible that that level of trauma would change a person permanently, and she just hoped that it wouldn't mean she'd lose her friendship with Harry and Ron. It would be like the end of an era, the end of her childhood. 

Even if they weren't good for each other anymore, it'd still be sad to lose the people she'd been close with since she was eleven. Hopefully, that wouldn't happen, but she couldn't know for sure until she'd at least given them a fair chance to get to know her anew. 

Flopping onto the couches before the fire with a laugh, it felt just like old times. Until Ron opened his mouth. 

"So what's he like in bed then? Is it true he's the Slytherin Sex God?" he asked. 

Harry whacked him over the shoulder and opened his mouth as if he were about to apologise for his friend, but Hermione beat him to it. 

"For your information, no I have not slept with him, nor do I intend to any time soon. So I can't inflate your ego in any way, shape, or form, Ronald Weasley" Hermione told him, somewhat proud of herself for her imitation of his mother's voice when she was telling him off, especially by Howler in front of the entire school. He'd never quite managed to live that one down. 

"Alright, I was just joking. You two seem super close now, and it's a bit weird since we've all hated him since the beginning. It's a bit hard for me to just drop all animosity so suddenly, especially with our family history. I just thought a joke might lighten the mood a bit, you're always so tense these days" he explained, hands raised in surrender. 

"Tense? Of course, I'm tense! I'm dealing with trauma from the war, it's the NEWTS and I still don't know what I want to do when we graduate, not to mention I've been fighting with you two, which is the last thing I want, since we're all alive after everything we've been through it's kind of a miracle, and to be fighting about something so immature as a childhood enemy? Not worth my time. I just want my friends back" she ranted in return, figuring it was about time she set all her feelings loose on them. They were always doing it to her, and turnabout was fair play, after all. 

"We had no idea, Hermione" Harry said from her other side since she was sitting in between them. "We just assumed you'd come to the Ministry with us and work as Aurors" 

"Oh no" she stated firmly. "I've had about enough of adventures for one lifetime. Right now I'm thinking something more academic would suit me better. Something nice and complex and challenging to keep me occupied. In fact, I've booked into Professor Snape's office hours tomorrow afternoon to ask for some career advice, see what he thinks I should do. Much as I love and trust the Headmistress, I'm not sure she fully gets me and what motivates me" she explained. 

"And you think Professor Snape would give you better advice?" Harry queried. 

"I think we're surprisingly similar once you look past the surface dissimilarities" she posited. "For example, neither of us can keep our noses out of books, we'd do anything to pursue more knowledge, regardless of ethics, neither of us is particularly attractive or has a lot of friends, and I think a lot of the same things motivate us, especially career-wise. He's a great teacher but I don't think this is what he really wants to do with the rest of his life" Hermione thought aloud, rambling her opinions to Harry and Ron, knowing she could have structured them more effectively for optimum communication, she hadn't and whether or not they understood her, it wouldn't stop her from doing what she intended to do. 

Ron opened his mouth to speak, but Harry slapped a hand over it, which was probably a good idea. 

Harry, however, seemed to be thinking before he spoke, something he didn't normally do and Hermione was proud of him for it. Maybe her boys were starting to grow up after all! 

"That... actually makes a lot of sense" Harry eventually spoke. "I hadn't thought of it that way, but you're right, Professor Snape deserves his freedom from this place, since it's pretty clear when you pay attention that he hates it here, though I have no idea what he'd want to do after we all graduate. Maybe he'll open an apothecary? Work as a consultant for St Mungos? I'm kind of curious to find out. Maybe you two can help each other figure out what you want to do post-Hogwarts" 

Hermione almost goggled at him. That was shockingly mature of Harry, and she was surprised at herself that she was surprised by him. Of course, now that Lord Voldemort was out of his head he'd mature more quickly than he had in years. It had always been Ronald who had been a little more immature, focused on finding a niche all his own so that he could finally feel important in his own right. What he didn't realise was that he was already important, just through being himself (because everyone is important in their own way). 

"I'm surprised at you Harry" she said, watching as Harry finally removed his hand from Ronald's still wide open mouth. "That's very mature of you. And you're right, I'm looking forward to our meeting tomorrow night, despite the fact that I know he'll be his usual caustic self" 

"I think you're crazy!" Ronald interjected, now that his mouth was free from Harry's hand. "Going to him for advice is a terrible idea! He'll probably deliberately tell you to do something that isn't something you should do at all, just to spite you!" he shouted. 

"Really, Ronald, do you really think he'd be that immature? Especially after the man almost died! You've seen how he's changed since the war ended, besides, why would he waste his time ruining my life when it's in his best interests to help me. The academic world of magical Britain and the magical academic world in general. If I go into academics, then it's smarter for him to keep me in his good graces, especially if that's what he decides to do after he leaves Hogwarts is also academic in nature" Hermione retorted. 

"Of course that's he wants you to think! Can't you see that he's just manipulating you?" Ronald shouted, getting up from next to her on the couch and storming off up the stairs to the boys' dormitory. 

"Well" Hermione said, turning to Harry on her other side after having watched Ron leave. "Do you agree with him?" 

"Not at all!" he shook his head so violently she was worried his head would fly right out and melt in the fire. "In fact, I think he can be a bit of an idiot sometimes, but please don't tell him I said that! I think he's just dealing with a lot of stress from the war and he isn't sure how to deal with it, which is why I think it's a great idea you're doing your best to get better, considering going to therapy and befriending Draco and all that. You're way ahead of the rest of us, crossing the stupid boundaries between us that we've been dealing with for our formative years and on your way to forming a better society for the rest of us to live in. I wish Ron would realise that what you're doing is for the best, for all of us. And I really do think you and Professor Snape can help each other in your careers, and I think that's a good thing to do. You know I'll support you no matter what you decide to do, as you've always done for me, even if I didn't always see it for what it was at the time" Harry had gotten up on his soap-box, pacing back and forth in front of the fire as if he couldn't stand sitting still for a moment longer. 

"...You have a point" Hermione admitted, her voice soft. "I honestly hadn't thought of it like that" 

"See, that's why you need me" Harry chuckled as he sat back down beside her. 

She smiled at him, and they set aside the serious discussion for lighter fare as the night wore on. Ron never rejoined them, and they didn't even notice, they were so caught up chatting until they were yawning more than speaking. 


	20. Planning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione goes to her appointment with Professor Snape to discuss her future and they have a lengthy conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished this chapter ages ago, but I wanted to finish the next one before I published it, which I just did, and uhhhh the only reason that took so long was because I got crazy busy with uni for the past few weeks so... pls forgive me and accept this longer chapter as my gift to you?

Leaving her last class the next day, Hermione was eager to get back to her dormitory so she could have a quick shower and freshen up her clothes before her meeting with Professor Snape. She'd left a notebook in her room that she needed to fetch because it had her list of notes of what she wanted to discuss with him, because she knew how annoyed he'd be if she showed up unprepared. 

God forbid if she said those three dreaded words!: "I don't know!"—He'd probably kill her! And that wasn't the way she wanted to go out. If she went out through her own folly while experimenting on a potion or some other academic magical item, she wouldn't mind being remembered that way, but not having been murdered by Professor Snape for being unprepared to answer an obvious question. 

Checking that Lavender and Parvati were out, Hermione grabbed her towel from its hook and dumped her school bag on her bed before she trawled into the bathroom, leaving a trail of her clothes behind her as she stripped while walking, all the while thinking on how she'd start out her questioning of Professor Snape. She'd been rehearsing it all day in between classes, and the more she thought about it, the more her hair puffed out like a fluffy halo with her stress, yet she couldn't stop. It was as if her brain was stuck on a windmill, grinding round and round and round until the flour was ground down to a fine mist of a powder. 

Except it was her that was the flour being beaten to a pulp by her own mind, and she didn't enjoy it at all. She knew she'd feel better once the meeting was over, but first, she actually had to live through it! 

Shrugging it off, she hung up her towel inside the bathroom and hopped into the shower, standing under the stream of hot water and allowing it to beat away all the nonsense she'd been going through these past few days. There was nothing like a hot shower to remind you that you were nothing when it came to the resilience and permanency of water. It really put things into perspective. 

Refreshed, she dried herself off with her towel and headed back to her bed to get changed into the outfit she'd agonised over last night before she went to bed, though it had ended up being as simple as a pair of black skinny jeans and a long-sleeved shirt that she'd paired with her favourite turtle-necked jumper. 

Pulling them on, she used her wand to tell her what the time was and found herself amazed at the speed of the passage of time! She was almost running late! 

Grabbing her notebook from where she'd left it on her bedside table, she tucked her wand in the back pocket of her jeans and ran out of the common room and down the stairs to the dungeons. 

*** 

"So, Miss Granger, what brings you to me at this time of night instead of the Headmistress?" Professor Snape greeted her with when she knocked on his office door and entered before she'd even had a chance to sit down on the spindly and uncomfortable wooden chair he kept there for student detentions. 

"I wanted to ask your advice" she started, but felt her tongue tie itself in knots at how to communicate the rest of her complex needs to him without offending him. 

"Well?" and he looked up from the essay he was grading with his signature red ink, no doubt also with his usual caustic comments. She hoped it wasn't one of her own. 

"About careers. After Hogwarts" she stumbled over words, caught in his black, boring gaze as if she was a mine and he was determined to pick all of her secrets out from between her eyes. Considering his talent in Legillimancy, maybe she should consider looking away? Or would that show distrust in him when she was here to ask his advice? She didn't know, and so she was caught within her own indecision. 

"You'll need to be more specific if you want my help, Miss Granger" he intoned. 

"Well, I couldn't go to Minerva, because she'll be too kind and not tell me the truth because she'll be scared of hurting my feelings, but I don't have to worry about that with you. You'll tell it to me straight, if all my ambitions are nonsense that I'll never have any hope of achieving," she explained, focusing over his shoulder so that she didn't have to watch the expression on his face, not that she thought she could decipher them, he was notoriously a closed book to all except those that knew him best, and there were few enough of those left. 

"That tells me nothing! If you want me to help you, you'd better spit it out" he spat at her. 

"You see, I'm not sure what I want to do after Hogwarts. If you'd asked me two years ago, I'd have said I'd go to the Ministry with Harry and Ron to become an Auror, but after the war, I can see that it's just not for me. So I've been trying to think of what else I'd want to do for the rest of my life and the trouble is I can't seem to narrow it down to just one thing! So I was wondering if I could discuss them all with you and you could help me narrow it down?" Hermione wondered aloud, wondering next when he'd kick her out of his office for good and fail her on the rest of her assessments for the rest of the year until she graduated. 

"Hm" he hummed. 

There was silence between the two of them as Hermione waited to hear his verdict. As the minutes passed, she wondered if he was waiting for her to continue outlining all the things she thought she was capable of doing after Hogwarts and enjoying them. 

"Go on, then! I haven't got all night!" proved this supposition correct. 

"At first, I tried thinking of the subjects I most enjoyed taking, but that didn't narrow things down at all, since I enjoy almost all of my subjects!" she started to say. 

"Excepting my own, I'm sure" Professor Snape's sharp tone interrupted her and she goggled at him for a second, shocked that he'd think that. 

"No! In fact, Potions is one of my favourite subjects! I love how you teach us practical things and always push me to be better instead of settling for anything even remotely mediocre. Anyway, I started to write down a list of every career I could think of that I might enjoy doing, and a list under that of all of their pros and cons, personalised to me, of course" she explained. 

"Of course" he muttered, dipping his quill back in the bottle of red ink and continuing to mark the essay in front of him. She'd wonder if he was even listening to her, but she knew he was entirely capable of multitasking. 

"Well, let's hear it then. Best to get it over and done with so I can help you find your true calling and you can be on your way so I can finish my marking in peace" he stated, never once looking up from the essay he was marking. Multitasking indeed! 

And so she told him everything, reading it out from the notebook she'd brought with her in careful tones so that he'd be sure to catch every point, though she was sure that even if he was only half listening, he'd be sure to pick up enough of her words to get the gist of what she was so indecisive about. 

"So, let me see if I've got this straight" Professor Snape spoke when she was done explaining everything, setting down his quill and looking over at her as she squirmed in her chair. "You have ambitions to work at the Ministry, either in the Department for the Control of Magical Creatures where you intend to champion their further rights within wizarding Britain, or somehow become the Minister for Magic someday? But if that shouldn't work out, you'd like to get an Apprenticeship of some kind, though you're not picky about who you Apprentice to or where, or even what subject! and should no one want you as an Apprentice, you intend to enrol in some sort of wizarding university to further your education that way. Is it possible that there's anything you've forgotten, Miss Granger?" he asked at the end of his speech which thankfully confirmed to her that he had indeed been listening while she'd been telling him everything. 

"...I don't think so" she murmured, eyes caught on the scratched surface of his desk. 

"Honestly, Miss Granger, why are you here discussing your options with me if you haven't fully thought it through? I can't make your decisions for you, no matter how much you want me to. I won't fuck up the rest of your life, just because I think it's the right thing for you to do, because it's not my life to decide! Don't make the same mistakes I did and allow someone to push you into doing something you ultimately don't want to do" he told her, suddenly serious, scraping hands through his slick hair and she goggled at this picture of Professor Snape finally undone, rattled by a mere schoolgirl as he hadn't even been upon the threshold of death at the hands of Lord Voldemort. 

"So I was right, you don't want to be a teacher at all? Maybe we can help each other then. Instead of telling me what you think I should do, you can tell me what you'd do if you were in my position, and I'll make my own judgements about whether it's right for me. No need for guilt!" Hermione exclaimed, rising from her seat to lean over the table towards him, wishing she could comfort him but sitting back down on top of her hands before she pissed him off so much he refused to help her any more. 

"Any idiot could tell I hate my job. Of course, I'd rather be doing anything else, so long as it doesn't involve any children. And judging by the way you only grudgingly help out Harry and Ron, I'd say you're not destined to be a teacher either. It would eat into the time you'd want to spend researching" he mused. 

"Excuse me, sir, are you referring to yourself or to me?" she asked. 

Shrugging himself out of what appeared to be deep thought, he returned his gaze to her face, alert once more. 

"Both, I suppose. You've presented me with quite the dilemma, Miss Granger. If I was you, I think I would do my best to escape the clutches of any institution that wants my talents for their own reasons, whether nefarious or not. I think you'd probably quite enjoy seeking out your Apprenticeship, regardless of what subject it was for. I think if you talked in the right ways to the right people, you could probably line up some offers before you even graduate. I think you'd really blossom under individual tutoring, rather than having your ability impeded by the lazier students around you at whatever university you chose to study at. I'd be willing to offer you a letter of recommendation for whatever Master you decide you want to study under, though I imagine not many of my contacts would be any use to you unless you choose to study Potions for your Mastery. You'd probably be better off going to Filius or Minerva if you want to go into Charms or Transfiguration. They'll try to convince you to take up their teaching positions when they retire, but don't let them if it's not what you want" Professor Snape detailed the options he thought she had. 

Hermione found herself nodding along. She admitted to herself that teaching really wasn't what she wanted to do with the rest of her life. Surely no one wanted to deal with hormonal teenagers, but someone had to do it. Otherwise, the masses would go uneducated and it was impossible to imagine all the uncontrolled magic everywhere. 

"You have a point, neither Potions nor teaching are my forte. But I think you're right about an Apprenticeship, is it possible to do a double Mastery at the same time?" she asked him, brows furrowed as she thought harder about what subjects she'd do a Mastery in if time and money were no object. 

"There is a precedent for it, though there haven't been many Apprentices recently, considering the unstable state of affairs for the past two decades, if not longer. I'm sure you could make a case for it if that's what you really want. If you change your mind before you've completed your Mastery, you can always change to another subject if both Masters agree to it." He assured her. 

She nodded, still deep in thought. 

"Sir, have you considered what you'll do? With the war over, there's no reason for you to stay at Hogwarts anymore unless you absolutely want to. What would you have done all those years ago if Dumbledore hadn't made you come and teach here?" she asked him in turn, wanting to set aside her own problems and help someone else since that was more familiar territory for her. 

"Honestly, I hadn't until you brought it up. But you're right, teaching is not something I ever imagined myself doing, and if my hand hadn't been forced by the circumstances, I'd have run as far from this place as I could. After this school year, I just might anyway. I don't think I'd open an apothecary, because that would still involve talking to dunderheads. And we both know how much I hate that" Professor Snape thought aloud. 

"I've been thinking" Hermione hummed. He glanced over at her and she almost lost her train of thought at the strength of his gaze. "I don't see why I shouldn't at least try a Potions Apprenticeship, just to see for sure whether or not it's my thing or not, and if you were to open an apothecary, and you were to be my Master—this is all just theoretical!—" she rushed to assure him before he threw her out of his office. "then I could handle the front of house things like stocking the shelves and serving customers while you conducted research and brewed potions. You know, so you wouldn't have to deal with any dunderheads. Considering I'm friends with two of them, I have good practice at dealing with them" she joked, smiling at him. 

"That's certainly an idea worth considering," he replied, surprisingly calmly. He'd ignored her joke, but that was expected. "This discussion seems to warrant more comfortable surrounds than this draughty office, what do you say to joining me in my quarters and we can discuss this more over a cup of tea. I shouldn't think any other students will be eager enough to seek me out in the rest of my office hours" he offered.   


Hermione was shocked but knew she'd be an idiot if she didn't accept this offer-of-a-lifetime. 


	21. Snape Can Be Nice?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape and Hermione discuss her future post-Hogwarts graduation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter might seem a little boring, but I had fun writing these two dorks. Hopefully you enjoy anyway. More Draco next chapter, I promise!

Hermione followed Professor Snape into his private chambers, finding herself surprised that it wasn't entirely furnished in Slytherin green, or all in black, but instead was a cosy mix of warm colours and wooden furnishings. Books littered almost every surface, and bookshelves lined every wall. 

It was, quite frankly, a bookworm's idea of heaven. She never wanted to leave until she'd thoroughly investigated those shelves and the enigmatic man who owned them. 

He seemed to be amused at her state of disrepair, chuckling to himself. 

"Go on then, go and have a look, maybe you'll find the answer to all your problems within one of those codices" he laughed, waving his hand at his expansive shelves. 

"You know I'm never leaving, right?" she shot over her shoulder as she approached them with reverent hands itching to get themselves on those beautiful leather covers. 

He sank into the armchair beside the fire and simply laughed for his reply. 

"So, what topics are you most interested in?" he asked, and she glanced up at him from where she was sitting on the floor surrounded by piles of books. 

She cocked her head to one side. 

"Is it bad if I say all of them?" she asked, turning back to the books she was considering. Maybe this one on charms would be useful to her. 

"Not at all, but it does make it harder for me to help you figure out what you want to do after you graduate. Unfortunately, they don't pay people to be insufferable know-it-alls, otherwise you'd already be rolling in it" he replied. 

She froze, looking up at him and feeling the book on Arithmancy she was holding slip out of her limp hands and slip to the floor. Then she saw that he was smiling at her. So she smiled back. 

"So... my options are... what? Become a Hogwarts professor and be stuck dealing with dunderheads 24/7?" she threw back. 

"I suppose. And it could be worth considering when we both know you're the only reason that both of your dunderheaded friends are scraping by in their classes. But it does take a lot of time out of your day that could otherwise be used for research. I think if you could narrow down on what subject you're most intrigued by, an Apprenticeship would serve you well in the wizarding world. Considering the circumstances of your birth, a Mastery would give you prestige that your role in the war hasn't already given you" he explained. 

She thought it through for a moment or two before she reacted. He had a point, the ending of the war really wasn't going to undo hundreds of years of discrimination, so thinking within the boundaries of the already established wizarding society could only help her further her ambitious plans for the rest of her life. Though she had to admit that it rankled. 

"I guess. Is it possible to do two Apprenticeships at once, at least?" she asked. 

"It is. I think whether or not you'd be able to would depend on what you wanted to do for those two Apprenticeships and who would be your Master" he replied. 

"What if I say I have a vested interest in studying Potions further, not necessarily from a practical standpoint, but more of a theoretical one? Especially when it comes to Charms and Arithmancy. I don't have much data to back up my current thesis, but I do have a working theory that I could apply to a Mastery" she told him. 

"Considering that it's you talking, I am aware that you're not just saying that because you want to get in my good books. I do think you have a talent for Potions, especially in the theoretical department, so I will talk to Minerva about this and will get back to you as soon as I can. As far as Charms and Arithmancy are concerned, I think two Masters are entirely enough for one person to tackle at once, even someone as motivated as you, so you'll have to decide which one it is you really want to focus on, and if you still can't decide, at least consider which one you want to do right now versus never, because you can always come back and do the other one once the first two Masters are out of the way, though you'd be the most over-qualified witch in all of magical Britain, if not the world!" Snape pontificated. 

She nodded, lost in thought, too busy thinking of how this minor ultimatum would affect her loosely laid plans for her thesis. She wanted to study the after-effects of curse damage, especially the Cruciatus curse, for intensely personal reasons that she was certain Professor Snape would understand. Maybe it was time to confess her intentions and see if he was interested in helping her? 

"Hmm, then which subject do you think would be more helpful for treating curse damage, like from the Cruciatus curse?" she asked him, making direct eye-contact with his black eyes that she felt boring deep into her soul. She wondered if he was using Legilimancy on her and then decided she didn't particularly care if it made him trust that her intentions were pure. What were a few squashed boundaries in the sake of greater knowledge? 

"Honestly? I haven't thought of pursuing something like that. There's never been much success before, so we'd be going in blind if this is really what you want to focus on for your thesis project. In fact, due to the lack of success by everyone who's tried in the past, there really isn't much modern research on the topic at all, so we'd be essentially starting from scratch. If that doesn't deter you, then I don't suppose anything else will. Actually, it could be a good challenge for you, forcing you to rely on something other than knowledge gained from books and books alone; you'll have to use your own wits, though you'll have my expertise to rely on if you'll accept my help" he offered. 

Grinning up at him, Hermione felt the urge to leap up from the spot she'd claimed on the incredibly soft rug beside his wonderful bookshelves and give him a bear-hug the likes of which she'd normally only bestow on Harry and Ron, equally as unwillingly as he'd likely be. 

Restraining herself, though wiggling where she sat in her excitement, she tried desperately to wrangle her brain into enough co-operation to find the right words to use to accept his gracious offer. 

"I'd be delighted, sir" she bounced up to her feet, unable to control her affectionate urges any longer. Suddenly finding herself standing in front of him, clutching onto his hands, she pulled him upright from where he was sitting in his armchair with a strength she didn't know she had. "Now, do you think a topical or an oral treatment would be most effective?" 

"I think you're putting the cart before the horse" he stated with a humorous venom in his voice. She couldn't tell what his face was doing since she'd wrapped her arms around his torso while he just stubbornly stood there as if he'd never been hugged before. Maybe he hadn't, but if he was going to work with her, then he'd better get used to it! 

Figuring she'd better put him out of his misery, she stepped away from him and retreated to her prior place near the bookshelves. 

She bent back down and picked them all up and put them back in their places in the shelves, which she'd memorised as soon as she'd removed them because she knew Snape was probably the sort of person who'd be anal about that. 

"Miss Granger, must you do everything as if you expect to be given a grade at the end of it?" it seemed that Professor Snape had snapped out of the reverie he'd fallen into. 

"Got a problem with it?" she shot over her shoulder at him, tucking the last book into its spot. 

Wiping her hands down on her skirt, she straightened from her bent-over position and turned back around to face him. 

"Well, I'd best be going, thank you again for all your advice, and I'll get back to you about which subject I'd rather major in for my Masters alongside Potions. Don't wanna get caught out after curfew!" she laughed, and smiled at him before she turned and walked out of his chambers the way he'd shown her in earlier. 

It felt like no time at all had passed, and yet casting a quick Tempus charm showed that at least two hours had passed since she'd arrived for their initial meeting. Harry and Ron would be freaking out about her safety probably, and yet she didn't care about what they thought at all, she was too busy on cloud nine with excitement for all the plans she needed to make for her future at Hogwarts. 


End file.
